Dangerous Crowds
by CokeBottleK
Summary: Part Two of "All Right, Evans?": Seventh year and all that that implies (when I'm not disregarding canon, that is).
1. Momentary Lapses

**DISCLAIMER: You know... not mine. All JKR's. Cover art by anxiouspineapples.  
**

_Hello, everyone, and welcome to Part 2 of ARE! (If you've stumbled across this fic, trust me, you'll want to read "All Right, Evans?" first and then come back and join us here.) _

_I am very excited about starting this, but first let me say that I got a few really great title suggestions for this fic and I thank everyone who submitted their ideas. I ultimately decided to go with "Dangerous Crowds," a phrase from Billy Joel's "Only the Good Die Young," because… Well, hopefully the reasons will become obvious to you throughout the course of the fic._

_I won't be mentioning new followers by name anymore. Not because I don't want to, but since I'm breaking the fic up into three parts, it's hard to keep track of who's new and who I've already mentioned but is now following the new stuff as well. JUST KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU REGARDLESS OF MY CONFUSION. _

_So first chapter here… Slightly different in that it's just a collection of moments from summer '77. I hope the format's easy enough to follow; some bits were more difficult to navigate/organize than others. There's some fluff and some throwaway characterizations and some angst and developments, yadda yadda, I'll just let you read it now instead of trying to explain it. _

* * *

**JUNE  
FROGS, CHESS, BAD DINNERS, AND SCIENCE FICTION**

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Lily sat in her room, beating her forehead steadily against the wooden surface of the desk in front of her. _Thud. Thud. Thud._

She'd been home for a week. A lousy, sodding, bleeding week. It was all blah-blah-blah-wedding and blah-blah-blah-Vernon and blah-blah-blah-Vernon's-job and blah-blah-blah-Lily-you-incorrigible-freak and blah-blah-blah-LILY-WHY-ARE-THERE-FROGS-IN-THE-BATHTUB?. That last one had included a lot of screaming on Petunia's part, but Lily thought it was rather funny. It _was_, really, until her mother took her wand away and hid it from her for two whole days as punishment. Then there was a row because Lily thought that both Petunia and her mother had overreacted, and they couldn't just take her wand away like that.

"I'm of age!" she'd shouted at her mother, not really sure what that was supposed to accomplish.

"Not in this house," Violet had countered. "You've got about another year to go here."

"It was just a few frogs!"

"Well, maybe now you'll find a more judicious way to spend your time."

Lily had stormed upstairs and slammed her door as hard as she could.

She'd gotten her wand back that morning, but as she wasn't allowed to torture Petunia with it, Lily thought that their mother might as well have kept the useless thing in her custody. Lily didn't want to bug Petunia, not really; it was mean and wrong and she _knew_ that, but she couldn't help it when Petunia was being such a – such a – well, not very nice herself.

"So he _is_ your boyfriend, then?" Petunia had said when Lily climbed into the backseat of the car at Kings Cross. And it escalated from there – James was _he_ or _him_ or _that boy_, and it was so unbearably condescending that it made Lily's fists clench and her teeth bare. _He_ was scruffy and was Lily sure that being with _him_ was such a good idea and _that boy_ didn't seem to be very cultured and a thousand other stupid, rubbish things. It was petty and it was annoying and it was all so completely untrue, but it bothered Lily, anyway.

"Just ignore her, Lil," Ian said bracingly as he left for work the day of the _thud_-_thud_-_thud_s. He shrugged into his suit jacket and clapped a hand on his youngest daughter's shoulder. He looked tired, Lily thought, much more tired than usual. "You're not going to solve anything by infesting the house with frogs. Don't do that again, okay?"

Lily scuffed her toes against the kitchen floor and mumbled something about okay, she wouldn't. That was good enough for Ian, so he planted a kiss on top of her head and left for work. And then Lily had gone upstairs to spend her day _thud_-_thud_-_thud_ding.

_Thud_. Petunia is stupid.

_Thud_. Frogs are cool.

_Thud_. Mum is drunk with power.

_Thud_. What good's a wand if you're not allowed to have a bit of fun with it?

_Thud_. James'd think the frogs were funny.

_Thud_. I miss James.

_Thud_. I'm pathetic.

Lily sighed and quit hitting her head; it was beginning to hurt a little. She sat up and pulled a piece of parchment towards her to write a letter to James because if she was going to be pathetic, well, she might as well make sure he was being pathetic, too. As it had only been a week, they hadn't written to each other, unless you counted the two scraps of parchment James had sent her. One was a rather old-looking piece scribbled with a Snitch and her initials (which had been crossed out, by the way); the other was a small note letting her know that was the sort of thing he used to do when she wouldn't go out with him.

She'd had it for about three days and James's owl had been hanging around the house, waiting for Lily to send him off with a reply, but she'd been a little preoccupied crying about it.

_Pathetic, Evans._ Lily swiped a hand over one eye and scratched out a letter.

_James,_

_Are you deliberately trying to upset me? Do you want me to cry? Because you've succeeded brilliantly with your stupid sketches and your stupid feelings. If I weren't so upset with you about it, I would be touched; as it is, though, I don't know how to express that so I'm choosing to be annoyed with you instead._

_Mum hid my wand from me for a couple of days, on account of all the frogs I Conjured in Petunia's bathroom. She deserved it, but no one here listens to reason so I got in trouble, anyway._

_I think I've given myself a concussion._

_Your owl is very polite. I'm thinking of trying to convince him to come live with me; I could use the company, considering you're hoarding most of it for yourself and it's not like I can run off to Alice. You know she's busy with Frank and the wedding. _

_I blame you for everything._

_I should go lie down. Stupid git. I miss you, by the way, and your sweatshirt smells a lot more like me and a lot less like you, so it's not much help. _

_Lily_

She thought about attaching her own piece of parchment, the one she'd scribbled on and carried around with her because she was a masochist and she just had to keep the _I think I love James Potter_ bit as close to her as possible. In the end, though, she sent Arthur the owl away without it; after all, she hadn't hit her head _that_ hard.

* * *

"What did you do?"

James looked up from the game of chess he and Sirius were playing in the drawing room. Marlene McKinnon was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently, and she'd fixed him with an unnecessarily accusatory glare.

"Er…" James wasn't sure what to say. "Well, I just lost one of my knights, but it had to be done, McKinnon. Sacrifices must be made in the game of chess, and –"

"I don't care about your stupid chess game," Marlene interrupted. She flourished a piece of parchment that James hadn't seen right away. "Your owl just brought this back; it's a letter from Lily, and apparently you made her cry."

James knocked his chair over in his haste to jump up from it and snatch the letter from Marlene. His eyes were scanning the parchment as Sirius looked up at Marlene and said, "You know, in the Muggle world, it's a federal offense to open other people's post."

Marlene rolled her eyes and turned to James. "I think she really did give herself a concussion," she said. "She sounds a bit mad, doesn't she?"

"I think she's just bored." James wasn't sure if he should laugh about the frogs or feel guilty for upsetting her. He hadn't meant to; he just wanted her to have the parchment he'd held onto since their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. He thought it would be nice, and he supposed her response had suggested as much but still, he never meant to make her cry. He really _was_ a stupid git.

He looked at Marlene. "D'you think I really made her cry? Is she upset?"

"I dunno," Marlene said. "What's she on about, anyway? I know about your stupid feelings, but what's this about a sketch?"

"Er…" James refused to meet Sirius's eye. "It's nothing. I can't believe you read my post, Marlene, you're such a prat."

"I know," Marlene said sweetly, allowing Sirius to take her hand and pull her into his lap. "Couldn't resist, though. I've got enough material to tease Lily with for all of seventh year now."

Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "That right?" he said thoughtfully before shifting his gaze to James. "Let me have a look at that, will you?"

"Not likely." James folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket for safekeeping. He noted Sirius and Marlene's rather intimate position in the armchair and said, "Guess we're not finishing up this game then, eh?"

Sirius shook his head and started kissing Marlene's neck. "Shut the door on the way out, will you?"

James sighed but didn't argue, making sure that he heard the lock click as he settled the door into its frame. He'd lost five Galleons to Sirius a week ago when Charlus had called the pair of them into his study to have The Talk, and if Sirius and Marlene got caught then it would be a lot harder for James to get Lily alone when she visited in July. As far as James could tell, after the initial talk about responsibility and respect, his parents' view on the whole thing was "We don't want to know about it, so don't let us catch you." That was just fine with James, since it wasn't as if he wanted to get caught.

He shook his head as he made his way through the house. _Nothing for you to worry about now,_ he told himself. _Or anytime in the near future, really, since you're a hormonal disgrace and you'd better not do anything about it until you tell her you love her… _That, James thought as he pulled Lily's letter from his pocket and re-read it, was the best route to take. If things were going to get serious physically, then he'd have to take the plunge emotionally, too. It made sense, he thought, since he planned on marrying her, anyway. But perhaps for now he'd keep that information to himself.

But he shook that off, too. For now he would simply find his parents and inform them of his change of plans. One week, he decided, was quite long enough.

* * *

Lily was lying face-down on her bed, half-asleep, the noises from downstairs only just permeating her little bubble of unconsciousness. There was the sound of the radio, her mother bustling around the kitchen as she prepared dinner, muffled conversation… Lily sighed deeply into her pillow and let the sounds lull her towards a real nap. It wasn't as if she had anything else to do.

That is, until her door slammed open and someone was jumping up and down on her bed.

"Oh, bloody hell –" Lily rolled over to identify the culprit, and promptly screamed.

"What are you shouting for?" James wanted to know as he continued to bounce above her. "If you're going to start yelling, you should really do it _before_ you're under attack like this. Blimey, you've got a lousy reaction time…"

Lily knocked him around the knees so he lost his footing and collapsed on top of her. He grinned. "Well, hello to you, too, Evans."

"What are you doing here?" Lily demanded, staring disbelievingly up at his smile. "I haven't slept through the whole week, have I?"

"I should hope not," James replied seriously. "Not if you've got that concussion, anyway. Speaking of, what'd you do?" Her forehead was a little pink, he noted as he ran his index finger across it.

"Banged my head repeatedly against the desk."

James laughed. _"Why?"_

Lily shrugged. "I was bored."

"Oh?" James kissed the pink spot. "So the concussion's on, then? And did I really make you cry? Oh, and love, you have to tell me more about the frogs, you wonderful, fantastic girl, and I'm afraid Marlene snatched your letter before I could, so fair warning there. And –"

"Slow down, would you?" Lily said on a laugh. "No, I don't think the concussion's really on. And you did, a little, but – don't look at me like that!" Lily reprimanded as James pouted. She laid a hand on either side of his face comfortingly. "It was sweet, absurdly sweet, unbearably ridiculous, too. I can't bring myself to remember much about the frogs at the moment, you smell quite lovely, and Marlene can tease me all she likes, but for now you're killing me, would you please just kiss me already?"

James happily obliged, and leaned down a little to press his lips against hers. He'd meant it to last for just a second, but then he realized how foolish those intentions were; after all, he hadn't seen her in eight days. Lily sighed and thought about how nice it was to sigh against James's mouth rather than into her pillowcase. She wound her arms over his shoulders and her hands dove into his hair. She moved her lips painfully slowly across his, letting his taste and his touch overwhelm her, drowning her, inch by inch. James's breath hitched when her tongue met his and he increased the pace of the kiss, his fingers tangling in the ends of her hair, threading through the long silky strands and tugging gently. Her back arched and he caught her around the waist, knocking their chests and hips together, and his body rubbed over hers and their moans crashed together in one short, collective gasp, and James's mouth bruised hers and Lily's teeth bit his bottom lip, and –

"Lily? Mum needs you – oh, God, _really_?"

Jarred out of that quick bout of heat and bliss by the new voice, Lily and James jumped apart, sitting up and adjusting their shirts and blushing furiously as both sets of eyes met Petunia, who was standing in the doorway and regarding them with a look of utmost disgust.

"Hey, Tuney." Lily smiled weakly, but her sister didn't return the gesture.

Petunia rolled her eyes and made to leave. "When you're quite finished," she said scathingly, "Mum needs you in the kitchen."

"Right," Lily muttered as Petunia disappeared. She turned to look at James, who had both hands pressed against his mouth in a poor attempt to silence his laughter. "Oh, knock it off. It's not funny."

"It's a _bit_ funny –"

"Ugh!" Lily threw a pillow at his face and swung her legs off the bed. "Bet Dad wouldn't think so."

James stopped laughing immediately. "Low blow, Evans."

She tossed him a wink over her shoulder. "Just trying to keep you in line, Potter."

* * *

Three days later, James was sitting in the kitchen with Violet Evans when he heard his girlfriend's scream. He jumped a little in his seat and swiveled around to look at Violet, who was completely unperturbed by the noises her youngest daughter was making.

"Is – er – should I go check on that?" James asked awkwardly.

"No." Violet shook her head and continued to clip coupons. "Ian must have finally told her that he bought the recorder."

James blinked a few times. "Recorder?"

"Right," Violet said. "It tapes things on television so you can watch them later. You know, the only downside Lily ever saw to Hogwarts was that it meant she'd miss _Doctor Who_ while she was away. She was able to keep up with the reruns, but all the same…" Violet allowed herself a small smile. "When she left last term, Ian caved and bought the recorder so she wouldn't have to keep track of reruns."

"Oh." James hadn't been able to keep up with any of that. "So, erm, what's – what's television?"

Violet looked up from her scissors, surprised before remembering that James Potter had come from a strictly Wizarding family. "Oh," she echoed, unsure of how to explain it. "Well, it's – hmm…"

She was saved the trouble, though, when Lily came dashing into the kitchen, bouncing like mad on the balls of her socked feet, slipping a little on the tiled floor. She was beaming, her face positively glowing and a little sore from the intensity of her smile.

"Mum, coupons are boring," she said, grabbing James's hand and pulling him out of his chair.

"Just trying to save some money, sweetheart," Violet said, smiling at her daughter's jubilation. "There are some fantastic deals here, too –"

"We don't have time for fantastic deals!" Lily shouted gleefully, dragging James through the kitchen. "WE'VE GOT THE ENTIRETY OF SPACE AND TIME TO TRAVERSE."

"Have you lost it?" James wondered, unable to help his laugh as he was propelled across the hallway into the den. "What are you on about? And what's television?"

Lily dropped his hand and knocked her knuckles against the box in the den. "This is a television," she told him. "Blimey, James, really you're the one who should be taking Muggle Studies, not Sirius…"

James stuck his tongue out at her and flopped down onto the floor, watching as she pressed buttons and the box made noises and flashed images and he was sure he'd never seen anything stranger than this. When Lily had settled herself beside him and the screen whirled colors and emitted odd _"Dooo weee dooo"_ sounds, James couldn't help himself; he crawled forward and rapped his knuckles smartly against the screen and he said, "How does it _do_ that?"

"James, move it, you big idiot." Lily tugged at the back of his shirt so he fell backwards, landing between her legs, and he decided that he quite liked it there. He rested his head against her stomach and caught her hands, wrapping her arms around his front.

"I don't get it," he said. "How is this happening?"

Lily laughed and swung her legs over his. "You're the only one who asks that in regards to the television rather than what's _happening_ on the television," she remarked. "You'd better pay attention, or you're going to get lost. The Doctor demands full brain activity."

James was quiet for a full minute before the police box came swirling onto the screen and he asked, "What's that?"

"The blue box?" Lily clarified. "That's the TARDIS."

James's brow furrowed. "The what?"

"The TARDIS," Lily repeated. "T-A-R-D-I-S. It's an acronym."

"Oh?" This wasn't helping. "So what's it stand for, then?"

"TIME AND RELATIVE DIMENSION IN SPACE."

James glanced up at her, a little jarred by the volume of her proclamation but mostly amused to see her so excited about something. "Why do you keep shouting?"

Lily smiled and buried her face in his hair. "I'm sorry. I keep getting excited."

That excitement, however, soon dissipated. After two hours in the den and a constant stream of James's questions regarding how the television and the Doctor worked, the pair were reminded by Violet that they were due to meet Vernon and Petunia for dinner.

"Have I mentioned how sore I still am about this?" Lily demanded of James as she dug through her closet for her shoes.

James grinned and leaned back on her mattress. "No, but I knew, anyway," he said. "I haven't seen your sister much since she barged in on us the other day, so this should be right splendid, don't you think?"

Lily threw a shoe at him, hitting him square in the chest, before realizing that had been the precise shoe she'd been looking for.

"Bugger," she muttered to herself before turning to James. "I need that shoe."

James quirked an eyebrow and lifted the shoe to eye-level. "This?" he said. "You need this shoe?"

Lily suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, James, well-spotted."

"Huh." James ignored her sarcasm and twirled the shoe between his hands. "Well, I reckon you'd better come get it, then."

"James…"

"Seriously, love, you'd better come take this shoe from me, or we'll be late to meet your sister –" James was saying, but the rest of his light threat was cut off as Lily took a running leap and landed on him, knocking the breath out of his lungs. But he was still too quick for her; he threw the shoe back across the room and rolled over so that she was pinned beneath him.

Lily looked up at him reproachfully, an effort that was sullied by her laughter, and she said, "You know, when you said I'd better come get it, I didn't think this is what you had in mind."

"No?" James's eyebrow shot up a little higher and he tried to mentally settle his stomach, which was buzzing with nerves at Lily's insinuation. This was _always_ what he had in mind. "Shame. I thought that's why you attacked me."

"Perhaps some other time." Lily leaned up a bit to kiss him. "But it's like you said, I don't want to be late for dinner. Which was _your idea_, need I remind you."

"Right," James said. "Sorry, bit distracted, forgot you were cross about that. So that's what's keeping you from ravishing me, then?"

Lily smacked him upside the head. James, however, as usual would not be deterred; he caught both her wrists to keep her from inflicting further injury upon him, and silenced her protests with his mouth. He didn't care how late they were for dinner and with the assistance of his tongue, he made sure that Lily didn't care, either. They didn't care on Lily's bed, they didn't care when they were on the front steps or in the driveway, and they continued to not care down three blocks, ducking into alleyways and pausing in the doorways of deserted shops. They didn't care so much so many times that by the time they entered the restaurant, Petunia was tapping her foot under the table and Vernon was drumming his fingers on top of it.

"Sorry," Lily apologized with a sheepish smile as she and James joined them at the table. "Lost track of time –"

"You've got a twig in your hair," Petunia told her disapprovingly. _Lost track of time indeed_, she thought, frowning as she noted the flush of her sister's skin and the satisfied little grin on that Potter boy's face.

"Oh." The flush intensified with Lily's embarrassment. Stupid James, pushing her against stupid trees… She reached up to extract the twig but only succeeded in tangling it further in her mussed hair. "Oh – ouch, bloody hell –"

"Here, I've got it," James said, carefully disentangling the twig, using his fingers to comb out the knots in Lily's hair. He was careful to stifle his laughter; it was clear that neither Petunia nor Vernon were amused by the couple's antics and he didn't care to annoy them anymore for the time being.

The meal progressed, the atmosphere tense and a bit subdued. At least, it seemed that way to Lily and Petunia; meanwhile, Vernon was using the opportunity to appear impressive, and James was quite over his initial reluctance to hold back his laughter. He assured himself that he couldn't help it, no matter how many times Lily kicked him under the table or shot him a please-shut-your-big-fat-mouth look. But it was just too _easy_, James thought. Vernon drawled on about his car and shot James a superior sort of look as he asked what model the younger man drove; James hardly knew what a car was, but he was happy to describe his broomstick. This led Vernon to wonder aloud if James could afford a car, and then he supposed (once again aloud) that there couldn't possibly be any suitable jobs for _his kind_, and they must live off some sort of benefit package; James assured him that his family kept a rather large fortune, buried deep in the vaults of Gringotts, so really he wasn't too bothered by any financial burdens. Vernon said he was sure that _his kind_ surely couldn't possess any special skills suited to a career, and Lily actually groaned when James pulled out his wand to demonstrate his special skills.

"Does the Statute of Secrecy mean nothing to you?" she hissed, her fingers gripping James's wrist and shoving his wand out of sight.

"I'm of age, remember?" James pointed out, even though that had little to do with the situation at hand. "Besides, if anyone sees me, I can just shoot a good _Obliviate_ their way."

"What, you're going to _Obliviate_ the whole restaurant?" Lily wanted to know, ignoring Petunia and Vernon's scandalized expressions. "That's the direction you're headed in, flailing your wand about like that –"

"I'm not _flailing_ –"

"Well, for all your not-flailing, you've just set the tablecloth on fire –"

"Ah, damn!" The sparks that had been shooting out of the end of James's wand had ignited the edge of the tablecloth, and he was quick with the _Aguamenti_, diluting the damage before anyone else in the restaurant could take notice. He grinned across the table at Vernon. "See, mate, how's that for special skills?"

Vernon, however, was not impressed, and he continued to question the abilities and general mental capacities of _his kind_; James continued to be defensive; Petunia continued to stew in silence; Lily continued to panic, also in silence. But when the debate had culminated in a flick of James's concealed wand and Vernon's mustache crawling off his face, that was that. As soon as a laughing James restored Vernon's facial hair, the latter shoved back from the table and stormed out, muttering about ridiculous mad people. Petunia shot a scathing look at her sister and went after her fiancé, muttering about _why_ she'd been stuck with a freak for a sister. Lily's contained panic overcame her and she burst into tears, which effectively cut off James's laughter.

"Oh, no," James said, taking Lily's hands as he scrambled to repair the damage he'd caused. _Oh no, oh no, oh no, nononononono…_ "Lily, I'm sorry, please don't cry."

"You're such a _prat_." Lily yanked her hands from his grasp and buried her face in them. Her body was shaking with sobs as she thought of the way her sister had looked at her, the way Petunia had rushed out after her fiancé, how unforgiving she was sure to be about this.

"I know, you're absolutely right," James agreed, thoroughly ashamed of himself as Lily fell apart beside him. "And I'm so sorry, Lily, I didn't – I was only having a laugh."

"What have I told you about having a laugh?" Lily demanded, her voice muffled by her hands and the tears. "You don't have to make other people look stupid just because you think it's funny!"

"Well, you know, he was doing a rather good job of making himself look stupid –"

"So he _clearly_ didn't need your help, did he?"

"Lily, I'm _sorry_." James rubbed her back, ignoring the accusatory stares some of the other diners were shooting him. Making Lily cry was bad enough without a bunch of strangers making him feel awful about it, too. "Please don't cry anymore. I promise, I'll – I'll make it up, okay? Next time I see Vernon, I'll apologize, I'll do whatever you want."

Lily lifted her head from her hands to look at James, and he looked just as sorry as he sounded; his eyes were wide and imploring, begging her to forgive him. If it weren't for Petunia's reaction, Lily knew she would have been laughing right there with him, so she wiped her damp eyes, hiccupped, and said, "I'm going to kill you."

James smiled weakly at her, a little hesitant because he thought she very well might go through with that threat. But she managed to calm down and, after helping James to figure out how Muggle money worked, they paid the bill and left the restaurant, much to the relief of the other patrons. When they met the warm evening air outside, James slid an arm around Lily's slender shoulders and he said, "I really am a prat."

"I know." Lily's fingers tangled with his and she kissed them. "But at least you're sorry for it. And the mustache thing would have been funny, you know, under different circumstances."

James allowed himself a genuine smile then and they continued walking. The street was deserted, blanketed in the darkness of a summer night; the streetlamps shone gold and the light sparkled over the glossy black pavement of the street. The air was warm, the breeze light and tickling, and there was the not-so-far-off hoot of an owl every so often. Lily and James were silent, reveling in the quiet evening sounds, comforted by the steady breathing of one another. When they reached the four-way intersection that marked the halfway point between the restaurant and the Evans household, James dropped his arm down to Lily's waist and he pulled her into another one of their silent dances.

After a few moments of rotating and hand-holding, Lily looked up at him and said, at once tender and matter-of-fact, "I miss you when I'm not with you."

"I know the feeling," James assured her. He spun her once and pulled her back into his embrace. "We're rather pathetic, aren't we?"

Lily kissed his shoulder. "Oh, yes," she agreed, laughing as James dipped her. "The absolute worst."

"I can't bring myself to mind much, though."

"No, neither can I."

* * *

**JULY  
MUGGLES, BLOOD TRAITORS, AND DEATH EATERS**

**EVANS**

"Have you seen this, Vi?" Ian asked as he shook out his evening newspaper. "Apparently there's a load of talk about rising gang activity in the London area."

"Really?" Violet looked up from her coupons, frowning slightly. "Well, isn't that a treat?"

"It's mental, is what it is." Ian coughed loudly and continued for some time, waving off his wife's concerned look. "I'm fine, sweetheart, just fine. Anyway…" He adjusted his newspaper. "Right, these gangs, they've got some crazed initiation rites – petty arson, mostly, but now the news is speculating that they might have something to do with some disappearances, too."

Violet's frown intensified. "Oh, that seems unlikely," she said. "Bunch of kids, getting in over their heads, sure. But I hardly think they're engaging in any major criminal activity."

"They're pretty serious about it, though, it seems," Ian said as his eyes scanned the story. He coughed again and this one was a little more painful than the last, but he was careful not to let his wife catch on. "Says here they've got themselves tattoos, some snake-and-skull business."

"Hmmm." Violet had noticed her husband's wince of discomfort and she ran her hand over the back of his. "Odd. I wonder if Lily's heard anything about this?"

Ian shook his head. "She doesn't have friends around here, does she?" he pointed out. "No one but that Snape kid, and he hasn't been around for a couple of summers now. I wonder what happened there."

Violet shrugged. "Lily never said. I'm beginning to wonder if it's got anything to do with James."

"Well…" Ian shifted in his seat, and this time his discomfort had nothing to do with the cough. "You know I wouldn't know anything about that, Vi. Girls, they don't talk to their dads about boy troubles."

Violet laughed and Ian relaxed at the sound, the easy happiness of it. It was something they hadn't had enough of the past couple of months, not since the pain in his chest had started. He missed the general happy-go-lucky nature of his home, his family. Things had been a little tense for the past few years as their daughters grew up and apart, but at the end of the day Ian was sure that his girls were happy, nurtured, loved. Now, though…

Ian still hadn't told Lily about his rapidly failing health, and he hid it well enough that she'd only commented a few times about how it looked as though he could use a good nap. He would chuckle and ruffle her hair up a bit, and the exchange would be forgotten, but Ian knew it wouldn't be so easy when he sat her down and talked to her. That's why he'd been putting it off for so long; he knew how his youngest daughter was, he knew that temperament, those emotions, and he couldn't bring himself to rattle the happiness Lily had acquired. She'd always been a happy girl, as far as Ian could tell, but there had been a shift in her this summer. There was a new, definite bounce in her step, a peculiar light in her eyes that hadn't been there before. It had nothing to do with her family and Ian knew that, but he couldn't bear to take the chance that might deflate that step or extinguish that light. It was obvious that James Potter, the boy with the untidy hair, would waste no time in lighting her world right back up, but it broke Ian's heart to think that it would dim, for any reason, even for a moment.

Violet had stopped laughing, and she was watching her husband with that old loving concern. She massaged his hand gently with hers and she said, "You've got to stop worrying about her so much."

"Hard thing to do," Ian said on a sigh.

"I know, darling," Violet said, and she did. She knew her husband, she loved her daughters just as much as he did, but there had always been this selfless side of Ian that sometimes prevented him from doing what needed to be done. "But the longer you wait, the harder it'll be. Petunia was all right, wasn't she?"

"Of course Petunia was all right," Ian said. "We've never had to worry about her. I might not think much of that bloke she's marrying, but she's always had an unflinching backbone, hasn't she? I know she cares and I know it hurts her, but she'll be okay. But you know Lil, always feeling to the extreme."

Violet nodded. "It's going to hurt for a long time," she told him. "No matter what."

Ian met his wife's eye and caught the single tear that was making slow progress over her cheekbone. "That's what I can't stand, Vi," he said, "is hurting my girls."

"Oh, love…" Violet sighed and shook her head, laughing a little bit. "You couldn't hurt a fly."

Ian lifted his wife's hand and kissed it. "Don't let James Potter know that, or else he'll think he can get away with anything."

Violet laughed for real this time, and once again Ian lost himself in the sound. Despite the hurt, the grief, everything, Ian thought that perhaps it could all drown in the sound of his wife's laughter. It could get absorbed by all the happy connotations, and maybe – just maybe – that would be enough to get them through.

* * *

**SNAPE**

Eileen didn't have time to deal with whatever was wrong with her son, and Tobias didn't much care. Still, though, it was discussed, and the conversation was always the same. Severus would let himself into the house, steal upstairs, and lock his bedroom door. Eileen would look at Tobias and ask if they should talk to him. Tobias would grunt and shrug and say the kid was her son so she could do whatever she liked. Eileen would frown and remind Tobias that Severus was his son, too, and Tobias would say he was more Eileen's son since he went off to some castle to learn magic tricks for nine months every year. Eileen would sigh and that would be the end of it. In the end, neither of them had the energy or the will to bother with it, and that suited their son just fine.

* * *

**BLACK**

Alphard had been ill for some time, Walburga thought as her furious eyes skimmed the letter for a second time. She wasn't surprised that he'd finally succumbed to death. What she hadn't expected, though, was the undeservedly high-and-mighty note he'd left behind.

_Walburga,_

_You know I have always demonstrated the utmost respect for you, for Orion, and for the way you've raised your sons. And now that I am dead (or will be, by the time you read this), I can finally abandon the charade and say that you and your husband are stark raving mad._

_Did you know, I've heard word that Regulus has joined the Death Eaters? What is he now, fifteen? Top job, dear sister; I expect he'll be dead before he's even of age. But bully for you, guiding him on his way to premature death in the most painful way possible. You did a much better job raising Sirius – that is, you hardly raised him at all, so he turned out for the best. I've settled it so that he receives a nice bit of gold from me upon my imminent demise. Nothing you can do about it, of course, which is why I've chosen to tell you. By the way, would you be so kind as to please extend my congratulations to Druella, as I have it on good authority that Andromeda married a Muggle-born and is now harboring a little half-blood in her stomach! _

_Oh, my dear Wally, how the mighty Blacks have fallen. Cheers to that._

_Your most dearly departed brother, _

_Alphard_

Walburga scowled and set the parchment on fire before dropping it and stomping it out furiously. She was in a right temper now – a rage, really, as her dead brother's taunts flashed so clearly in her mind, no matter how charred his handwriting became. That pompous, chortling, self-satisfied _pig_…

"REGULUS!" she screeched, so loudly that her son would be sure to hear her, no matter where he was hiding in Grimmauld Place.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, pounding their way down, rushing, rushing, down the hallway, and then Regulus burst into the drawing room, panting slightly from the brisk jog he'd broken into to avoid furthering his mother's obvious wrath.

"You – you called?" he said, his voice shaking and cracking slightly.

"Yes," Walburga said shortly. She settled back in her chair and brushed ashes off her robes. "Regulus, you know where your loyalties lie, don't you?"

"Er…" Regulus unconsciously fingered his left forearm. "Yes, I suppose – yes, I do."

Walburga's eyes narrowed at the boy's hesitance. "You do know, Regulus, what happens to Mudbloods and blood traitors? Scum, like your ungrateful brother and that wretched cousin of yours?"

Regulus swallowed. Familial alienation, blasted off the Black family tree, the shame of having besmirched such an old, pureblood name… _Although_, piped up that unbidden voice in the back of Regulus's mind, _Sirius never seems very guilty. Quite the opposite, actually. And Andromeda had seemed positively bursting with happiness when you saw her at Kings Cross at the end of term…_

"Regulus!" Walburga's voice snapped him back to the present.

"Right, sorry." Regulus was rubbing his arm now. "I know, Mother, I do. I won't – I won't dishonor the Black name, I swear."

Satisfied, Walburga nodded and dismissed her son. At least this one had his priorities in order, she thought. She pointed her wand at the family tree tapestry and blasted Alphard's name clean off, and with that, she wiped her mind clear of her dead brother and his supercilious words.

Regulus, however, couldn't forget anything. He leaned against the staircase banister, and his thumb tugged at the material of his sleeve that covered the pattern on his left forearm – the skull and the snake, the thing that burned whenever he was needed. He'd cursed twelve people this summer, tortured eight, killed three, and their faces haunted his waking hours as well as his nightmares. It was what he'd signed up for, he knew, it was what he'd wanted. But… Regulus tugged at his hair. There could be no _but_s. It was done. It didn't matter.

"Can Kreacher get Master Regulus anything?"

Regulus jumped a little, startled by the elf's sudden appearance. "No, Kreacher," he said, and his young voice was weary, weighed down with tiredness and uncertainty. "No, I'm – I'm fine."

Kreacher bowed, the tip of his long nose touching the carpet, and he disappeared down the next hallway. Regulus watched him go without really seeing anything. His eyes were blank, his head empty, his hands forever shaking as they remembered the damage they'd caused.

Twelve cursed, eight tortured, three murdered.

Regulus wondered what else he'd be asked to do.

* * *

**POTTER**

"Our sons are sexual deviants!"

Dorea sighed and leaned her head back against the chair she was sitting in. "Charlus, I don't want to know –"

"They're incorrigible! Mad, too, now that I think of it," Charlus went on, the heat of his words overpowering his wife's protests. "I found Sirius and Marlene in the house-elf's closet the other day. I asked why on earth they'd choose to – to – _occupy their time_ there, and Sirius tells me that 'There's just something about Magical Mess-Remover, Charlus, I can't explain it.'"

"Charlus, really, I don't –" Dorea tried again, but to no avail.

"And then I just found James and Lily in the library," her husband continued to rave, "and _he_ tries to tell me that there's something about books, and then he started muttering something else before Lily socked him in the stomach – good girl, she is – but _really_."

Charlus dropped himself into the chair next to his wife and he heaved a deep sigh. He pulled his Muggle pipe from his breast pocket and stuck it between his teeth. Dorea refused to acknowledge his impassioned speech, so the two settled into the comfortable silence they'd formed over the course of their lengthy marriage. After a few minutes, though, Charlus sighed again and said, "You know, Dor, I wish our boys' sexual deviancy was the worst of our worries."

Dorea leaned over and linked her fingers with her husband's. "I know," she said. "Quite apart from calling it sexual deviancy, though, my darling Mr. Potter, perhaps we should call it love and comfort ourselves with the fact that it will get them through this."

"Quite right, my lovely Mrs. Potter." Charlus chewed a bit on the end of his pipe and squeezed his wife's hand. He thought about the war, about the tortured and battered and dead and everyone they left behind. He thought of the long hours he spent in the office and on the field, thought about Alastor's incessant declarations of CONSTANT VIGILANCE and how it didn't seem so annoying in the midst of battle.

He thought about his wife and his boys: Sirius and Marlene failed to be sneaky when they snuck off, and that was just like him and Dorea so many years ago. The way they laughed and looked and touched, Charlus felt as though he were watching memories played out in front of his very eyes. James and Lily were no better – or no worse, rather – and the way they looked… Well, Charlus thought it positively screamed of unspoken love – nervous, funny, first, last, only, love.

Charlus chewed on his pipe some more and thought that yes, it would be enough. Constant vigilance in war, and first-last-only in love. He smiled at Dorea and she smiled back at him, and they both thought that war didn't seem so relevant when it was bathed in such insurmountable light.

* * *

**AUGUST  
LETTERS, CONFESSIONS, AND CHAMPAGNE HELLOS**

**To: James**  
**From: Lily**

_Have you heard this business in the Muggle newspapers? They're reporting Death Eater activity, but of course they don't know that's what it is; they're convinced it's got something to do with gang initiations, or some other rubbish like that. Apparently it's been going on all summer. I should really pay better attention to the _Daily Mail_, but I've found that it's much more dull when the pictures aren't moving. Perhaps I should have subscribed to the _Prophet_ before the end of term. _

_Anyway, it's maddening trying to go into town, as the Muggles are suspicion of anyone our age, which makes me think that Voldemort is really putting his little Hogwarts recruits to work. May I ask – and be completely honest with me – do I look like someone who'd have a great skull-and-snake tattoo on my arm? Not that there's anything wrong with tattoos, but I'd certainly pick something a bit more tasteful._

**To: Lily**  
**From: James**

_Dad's told me all about what the Muggles are printing. Our Minister's been conferring with their Minister and Dad says that's how the whole thing got started. Can't jeopardize the Statute of Secrecy for much of anything besides that._

_In that vein, would you mind terribly holing yourself up in your bedroom until I pop by again? I've had at least a dozen heart attacks worrying about you. And before you get annoyed with me, yes, love, I know you can take care of yourself, but you're the only witch over there, aren't you? At least when you take on Death Eaters at Hogwarts there's the chance that someone can come to your defense if you need it. _

_As far as your plans for a tasteful tattoo, dear Merlin, if you get it on your lower back I swear I'll be your slave for all eternity. _

**To: Lily**  
**From: Marlene**

_What's James going on about, you getting a tattoo? I was eavesdropping on him and Sirius last night (much more exciting than actively participating in the conversation, you know), and he was going on and on about how dead sexy you are or something. _

**To: Marlene**  
**From: Lily**

_He vastly misinterpreted me. He's such a twat; ignore everything he says except for the bit about how dead sexy I am. That, I'm afraid, is quite true._

**To: Lily and Marlene**  
**From: Alice**

_If one of you sends me another letter about how Lily's getting a tattoo or what great big gits Sirius and James are, I swear I'm taking you both out of my wedding. Incidentally, first Hogsmeade weekend I've scheduled a dress fitting for all three of us, so your great-big-git-boyfriends will have to do without you for one afternoon. _

_Frank and my brothers send their love, by the way. I haven't seen any of them too much this summer, but I've kept myself busy with Mum and Mrs. Longbottom, planning the wedding. I think the boys are actually quite happy to be risking their lives on a daily basis if it means they don't have to look at flower arrangements. Why is it that all the men in our lives are such gits? Or is that just men in general? Excepting Remus and Peter, of course, in which case someone needs to explain to me why neither of them have girlfriends. It's inexcusable, really._

**To: Evans the Scarlet Woman**  
**From: Sirius the Devilishly Handsome Best Mate of the Scarlet Woman's Choice Victim**

_What the hell are you on about, woman? You can't write to James to ask about Peter and Remus's love lives! He's been sulking all day – he thinks you're carrying on some illicit affair with his mates. Not that I helped, since I may or may not have insinuated that I had a hand in aforementioned illicit affair as well. If this behavior continues, I have to say, you will not be invited to share the flat I plan to buy post-Hogwarts (dead uncles are swell, aren't they?)._

_Marlene has just informed me not to address you as 'woman.' Please accept my sincerest apologies and know that I don't actually give a sodding doxy about which endearments I choose to shower you with._

**To: Moony and Wormtail, Betrayers**  
**From: Prongs, Betrayed**

_I would just like to thank you both for stealing my girlfriend and consequently ruining my life. I hope you're happy._

**To: Prongs, Drama Queen**  
**From: Moony, Voice of Reason**

_I've talked to Peter and we've concluded that we haven't the faintest idea what you're on about. So I sent a letter along to Lily and she's told me that she and the girls were just curious as to why perfectly respectable gentlemen such as Peter and myself retain bachelorhood when bleeders like you and Padfoot have girlfriends. Her words, not mine, but for some reason she continues to fancy you, so quit being so overdramatic. _

**To: Everyone**  
**From: Peter**

_I have no idea what's gotten into any of you and unless someone wants to explain, quit sending me cryptic messages about how I've 'stolen [your] woman' (Prongs, I swear I haven't got any 'designs on Lily's dead sexy tattoo'), I'm a liar and a traitor (Padfoot), that Prongs and Padfoot are bonkers (Moony, although I have to agree). And while I appreciate your insistence that I deserve a good snog (Lily, Marlene, Alice), I still haven't the slightest clue as to what's going on. _

_I send you all my warmest regards. Mum's driving me mad, as per usual, and I look forward to seeing you all at Kings Cross in a few weeks, provided that you've regained your respective sanities. _

**To: Moony and Wormtail**  
**From: Padfoot**

_Prongs is Head Boy. _

_HA. _

**To: Lily**  
**From: James**

_I've chosen to listen to my heart, reason, and Marlene's persistent badgering – I know you're not having an illicit affair. But do you see what all these weeks apart do to me? I'm completely unhinged._

_Not as unhinged as Dumbledore, of course. Did you get your Hogwarts letter? More importantly, did you get your Head Girl badge? Because my Hogwarts letter says that you're Head Girl. You're probably wondering why my letter would tell me that, but then I suppose it's protocol for the Head Boy to know who he'll be working with._

_Did you catch that, Evans? I bet you did, clever thing, you. I'M HEAD BOY. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME? Sirius will not quit taking the mickey on this one; he's writing to the boys now, and I bet they'll all have a great big laugh about it. _

**To: James**  
**From: Lily**

_Of course I'm not having an affair, you dolt. I was going to tell you not to worry, that you'll make a brilliant Head Boy, but really, I don't know how you managed it since you're thick enough to convince yourself that I was shagging your mates. Idiot. _

_Really, though, James, you'll do wonderfully. Dumbledore knows what he's doing, and he wouldn't have given you the position if he didn't think you were suited to it. When you're not so hot-headed, you're really quite fair and you're a fantastic leader. I don't think you've levitated anyone since fifth year, either, so that right there shows at least some modicum of responsibility. I'll be there to help you so even if you do botch it up, well, that's what I'm there for. You're going to be fine. Don't listen to Sirius; he called me a scarlet woman, so it's not as though he's in his right mind, anyway._

**To: Lily**  
**From: James**

_As comforting as your words are, I think I'd feel better if you just snogged some sense into me when I see you next week. Yes or yes?_

**To: James**  
**From: Lily**

_Oh, thank Merlin, now I've got an excuse to snog you. I'm so relieved. How on earth would I have managed snogging my boyfriend without a good solid purpose? You really give my life meaning, you know that, James Potter?_

**To: Lily**  
**From: James**

_Cheek, Evans. I'll see you in a week. _

* * *

**The Next Week**

James stuck his head into Lily's bedroom and found it empty. He took a few steps in and heard a lot of rummaging behind the closet door. "Lily?"

"Right here." Lily stumbled out of her closet, open bottle of champagne in hand, and James was immediately struck by how very naked she was. Oh, sure, the important bits were covered up, but still it was more than a bloke could be expected to take. After staring for a moment with his mouth open, he spun on his heel to stare at the wall, blushing furiously and trying not to think dirty, dirty thoughts.

"Oh, hello, love," Lily said, slurring her words a bit and James wondered how much champagne was left in that bottle. "Sorry, I'm in a right state, aren't I? I thought you were my mum, otherwise I would've stayed in my closet 'til I was dressed."

"You thought I was your _mum_?" James repeated, a bit incredulously. "Are you telling me I sound like your mother?"

"No, not at all." Lily came up behind him, one of her hands sliding slowly down his arm, and planted a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Your voice is deep and masculine and sends tingles down my spine. How are you?"

"Hmm." James pretended to think about it, still looking determinedly at the wall even though he could feel Lily's breath tickling the back of his ear and her arm slide around his waist to rest against his stomach, which was tied in a million little knots. "Well, I just walked into the bedroom of my half-drunk, half-naked girlfriend, who I've been mad about for years and who I haven't seen in a month, and she's kissing my neck and telling me I make her spine tingly. And did I mention that she decided that it was best to greet me in a state of near-undress? I'm sure I did. So. How do you _think_ I am?"

"Excited, I expect." Lily smirked and nipped at his ear.

"Hit the nail right on the head there, Evans," James said, shuddering pleasantly at her touch.

"I'm quite clever," Lily said, her fingers dancing across his abdomen. "Now why don't you turn around and give me a proper hello?"

James's stomach muscles clenched at the prospect, but he had to refuse. "Why don't you go put some clothes on?" he suggested.

Lily pouted a bit but went back to her closet. "Since when did you become such a gentleman?"

"Since your dad knows I'm in your bedroom," James informed her, "so 'round about five minutes."

"Dad likes you," Lily reminded him as she struggled into her dress.

"Quickest way to get a dad to not like you is for you to do terrible, dirty things to his daughter under his roof," James said, and a flash of Lily in her underthings from just a moment ago burst its way into his brain. "Really terrible things that could only resort in a really terrible death."

Lily smirked and took another swig of champagne. "Scared of my dad, then, are you?"

"We established this last Christmas, Evans," James said, as if exasperated that she could forget. "Your dad's a big bloke, and I quite like having all my limbs attached to my body."

"Ha!" Lily stepped out of her closet, holding the front of her dress up with one hand. "All right, turn around and zip me up, would you?"

James turned and was relieved to find her more or less covered. He sighed deeply as he zipped up her dress, his fingertips grazing the smooth skin of her back. "I'm such a nancy," he decided aloud. "As breathtaking as you look in that dress – even with the distinct absence of any lower back tattoos – my love, I really should be coaxing you out of it, shouldn't I?"

"Well, yes, but as you said, you're quite the nancy," Lily pointed out. She drained the bottle of champagne. "It's all right, though. I've had a momentous amount to drink in preparation for this wedding, so you'll be able to take proper advantage later."

James's stomach muscles squirmed gleefully at the prospect, and he had to restrain himself from acting on impulse right then and there. "You're an inexcusably naughty Head Girl, you know," he told her. "Speaking of said wedding, though, I'm a bit shocked at the dress choice," he went on, flicking Lily's bright yellow skirt. "Your sister isn't particularly sunshine-y, is she?"

"Not at all," Lily agreed, "and Tuney positively despises yellow, as it goes horridly with her hair. That's why I picked this one out, actually."

"Doesn't the bride normally choose the bridesmaids' dresses?" James asked curiously. He was sure that was the way things were done, Wizarding or Muggle wedding notwithstanding.

"I'm not a bridesmaid," Lily said, and she wished she hadn't downed the rest of that champagne, as she could really do with having something to do with her hands right then. "Tuney – well, she's been rather more put-off with me than usual since that dinner in June, so…" She trailed off and hoped James didn't recognize the sadness in her voice.

"Oh." James wasn't sure what else to say, not now that the shame was overcoming him, so fresh and new as if he'd never felt it so poignantly before. This was so not worth the laugh he'd had months ago; he was such an incredible arse. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "Oh, Lily, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be," Lily said, trying to shrug it off as she hugged him back. "Now I've got an excuse to be ridiculously sloshed through the whole thing."

James half-laughed, half-sighed, and buried his face in the lush fragrance of Lily's hair. "You wonderful, absurd girl of mine."

"I rather like the sound of that," Lily said, and smiled against his heartbeat. She liked it so much, in fact, that she was going to have to watch herself if she wanted to prevent a drunken declaration of her undying love for him. This certainly wasn't the time.

"I'm fond of it as well," James said, and grinned against the scent of her hair. He was so fond of it, in fact, that he was going to have to be careful if he wanted to prevent a mad romantic feat that she wouldn't remember in the morning. Champagne kisses were one thing, he thought; proclamations of endless love certainly weren't suited for a champagne-inebriated girl. It just wasn't the time.

* * *

**The Reception**

The band had barely struck the first note before Lily screamed a little bit, planted a kiss on James's mouth, jumped up from her seat, and ran over to the makeshift dance floor in the Evans's backyard. Bemused and a bit pleased with the tingle on his lips, James turned to Violet and said, "What's she shouting about this time?"

Violet smiled and pointed to where Lily and Ian had started an exuberant dance on the words _Come out, Virginia_. "Lily heard this song when she came home this summer," Violet explained. "Absolutely fell in love with it, and Ian's always been a Joel fan, so the whole thing sort of spiraled."

"Oh, sweet Merlin…" James couldn't help but laugh and Violet had to join him as they watched the pair on the edge of the dance floor. Between their love for Billy Joel, the amount of champagne they'd had to drink, and their shared ineptitude for dancing, Ian and Lily Evans were quite the picture. As the lyrics progressed and the tempo increased, Ian's loosened tie flung over his shoulder and Lily's skirt swirled around her legs. They were spinning, spinning, laughing, sashaying, dipping and twirling and wagging their fingers and tapping their feet.

_You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd. We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud. We might be laughing a bit too loud, but that never hurt no one…_

They were singing along with the words, cutting a path through the crowd, still spinning and twirling and laughing. Violet's heart swelled as she saw that old twinkle light up her husband's dark eyes. _No matter what_, she remembered, and she knew that light would never really go out.

_You got a brand new soul, and a cross of gold. But Virginia, they didn't give you quite enough information. You didn't count on me when you were counting on your rosary…_

If there was room for James to feel anything that wasn't love, adoration, awe, he thought he might have recognized the pain in his face that came from smiling so much. He saw the yellow skirt of Lily's dress spin around her thighs, watched the way her crimson hair flung in one smooth, single sheet around her shoulders, flying momentarily into her laughing green eyes.

_They say there's a heaven for those who will wait. Some say it's better, but I say it ain't. I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. Sinners are much more fun… You know that only the good die young._

Everything about her glowed – her eyes, her smile, the energy behind her very being, and James thought he fell in love with her all over again. It was just like the first time, the second time, every time; he thought he'd never stop falling in love with her, and nothing had ever felt more right than that. But of course he couldn't tell her that just yet. They always had later, he told himself again, but this time he couldn't bring himself to believe it the way he used to.

When the song was over and Ian had collapsed, breathless, into the seat next to his wife and Lily into the seat next to James, he wasn't prepared to give her a minute of rest. He looked at her, smiled, held out a hand for her to take, and he said quietly, "We've finally got a bit of music." His eyes were bright, sparkling with that old mischief Lily knew so well. "Dance with me."

Despite her flushed skin and tired limbs, Lily smiled back and slipped her hand into his proffered one, allowing him to pull her up and into his arms. He led her to a corner of the floor and she curled one arm around his neck and nestled her head in his shoulder, sighing deeply as she indulged in his scent and warmth. He was so reassuring, she thought, and relief swept over her as she considered what her day could have been like without him – what all of her days could be like without him. It wasn't something she was eager to experience, and she crossed her fingers that she wouldn't have to. He made her feel so safe, important, like everything was funny and beautiful and _right_, and she couldn't bear to lose it but she couldn't say it, either, not yet, so she had to settle for something a little less heavy.

"I'm so happy you're here," she murmured, her lips tugging a little on the material of his shirt as she spoke.

James kissed the top of her head and his fingers clutched at her waist. "So am I, love."

A few yards away, Ian and Violet Evans watched their daughter in her yellow dress and the boy with the untidy hair. They watched her green eyes close and the smile that played at the corners of her lips, and they saw his hazel ones sparkle with adoration as he held onto her. It was precisely what they had expected, exactly what they'd guessed, and yet Ian found his heart breaking just a little bit because he knew it meant that Lily would be okay, as long as she was wrapped up in James's arms. That was good, it had been all Ian wanted for her, but it was hard to watch his daughter fall in love. James would be the one she'd run to now, and he'd be the one to make everything okay, the way that Ian used to. It was odd, strange, surreal, to suddenly become second-place, no matter how inevitable or right it was.

Ian sighed and Violet took his hand. The important thing, they both knew, was that it would all be okay, and that was really the only thing they could ask for.

* * *

James lay in bed next to Lily, who had fallen asleep at least an hour ago. He hadn't meant to linger so long, but he couldn't help it. He'd helped her out of her shoes and dress, done the gentlemanly thing and insisted that she get in her pajamas (although, true, it had taken a few minutes of heated snogging before he'd pulled himself together), and he'd helped her into bed. He'd kissed her forehead and prepared to depart to Potter Manor, but Lily had caught his hand and she was so warm, and she'd whispered, "Stay," so in the end, how could he go?

He stroked her face, his fingertips dancing over her temple and down her cheek, tracing her jaw, and he wanted to be like this all the time, every night, with her. He kissed her forehead and rolled off the bed; he scribbled a quick note for her to find in the morning and left it on her desk, and then he went downstairs to look for Lily's father.

He found Ian Evans at the end of the hallway in his study. He was at his desk, coughing and shaking some pills out of a bottle, and that was confirmation enough for James. He didn't know the man very well, but James had noticed his exhaustion, the weight loss, so many things that people who did know him would look past, would subconsciously refuse to acknowledge because the people who knew and loved him so well were too afraid to accept that something could be wrong.

James knocked on the doorframe to announce his presence and Ian waved him inside. James took the chair on the other side of the desk and they talked about nothing because they both knew that it was all preamble, that it wasn't why James had come down to Ian's study, and after a quarter of an hour James couldn't pretend anymore.

"Sir?" James said as those fifteen minutes came to a close. "You're – you're sick, aren't you?"

Ian looked across his desk, a little surprised even though he knew this is where they'd been headed. He thought about lying, about shrugging it off and saying he was fine. But as his tired eyes met the bespectacled ones across from him, Ian found that he didn't have the heart to lie, or to even stretch the truth or hide a bit of it.

So he sighed and nodded and he said, "Yes. Quite sick, actually. Lily doesn't know."

James nodded too, silently promising not to divulge Ian's secret until the man was ready to do so himself.

"I thought so," James said. "It's just – I noticed, and Lily said she thought you were tired, overworked, so I thought…" He shook his head. "Sorry. I don't mean to harp on about it, that's not why I came down here."

"That's all right," Ian said. He was actually a little glad that he could drop the charade for a few minutes. "What'd you want to talk about?"

James took a deep breath and rumpled his hair self-consciously. "Right," he said, and he was unmanageably nervous as he delved into his stream-of-conscious speech. "So I know that Lily and I, we haven't been together terribly long – not long enough, really, not the sort of long enough that it takes people to usually think about this sort of thing, but – I figure, well, I can keep putting this off. We always have later, right? But then I thought, we're not always going to have later because things are a mess in our world. Has she told you that?"

"A bit," Ian said. It was true that Lily had mentioned her worries over the years, but in the end neither he nor Violet knew what to do about it. It wasn't their world, no matter how much it may have affected the Muggle one. "We know enough, I think."

"Right." James took another breath and another swipe through his hair. "So that's the thing, then, is that we don't really have forever. I've got to quit kidding myself, because I don't have all the time in the world to put this off. I haven't told her this – in fact, sir, you'll be the first to know for sure – but I love her."

His breath caught a little in his throat as he said it. It felt good, he thought, so good, to finally say it out loud.

"I love her," he said again, marveling at how amazing it felt to hear those words out loud. "I have, I think, for a long time, but I never – I never thought about it too much, because she didn't, I _knew_ she didn't, and that was bad enough without me thinking about it, too. But now I think she might, or she could. And I know we're just kids –" James shook his head, thinking about all the things _just kids_ were expected to handle nowadays – "but I love her so much and I'd do anything for her, and it's really important to me that you know that, sir."

James met the older man's eye, and his gaze was steady and serious and meaningful. "I want you to know that I'm going to keep her safe," he said. "I'll do everything for her, whether I can or not, I swear that I'll find a way to do it. I – I messed up with her, a lot, and I won't let that happen again; I won't make her regret giving me a chance. I want to marry her, someday, soon, and I – I wanted that to be okay with you."

Ian blinked a few times. Once again, it was everything he'd expected, but it was the way that James Potter spilled his guts, the way that his hands were shaking but his voice was steady and sure. He was confident and afraid that it wouldn't be enough. And maybe, by itself, it wouldn't be, but Ian knew that this was precisely the sort of man he'd want to leave this particular daughter with, so he nodded.

"I told you when I met you," Ian said, "that I liked you. I think you're mental and under normal circumstances, that wouldn't fly with me. But everything considered… you know, I think mental's exactly what Lily wants."

James smiled and he felt the weight of the world leave his shoulders, just a little bit, for a little while, but it was all he needed. "I hope so, sir."

"Just promise me one more thing, aside from everything you've already promised." Ian shifted in his seat a bit, steeling himself for words he never wanted to say out loud, but now his hand was forced. "I won't be here when you marry her. So I need you to make sure that whoever walks her down that aisle can give her away, knowing everything that you've just told me. I need them to know that they're leaving her in the right hands. Your hands."

James promised; they shook on it and, five minutes later, he left. Five minutes after that, Ian flipped the light switch in his study and made his way into his bedroom. He lay down next to his wife, who shifted and opened her eyes and said, "Glad to see you getting some sleep tonight."

"Oh, I don't know about that…" Ian's head was still reeling from the conversation he'd just had. "Not after what I just heard, anyway. James Potter wants to marry our daughter."

"What?" Violet's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

Ian shook his head. "I'm not," he said. "He was just in my study and he told me he loved her. Thought he should clear it with me before he told her," Ian continued with a soft chuckle. "Kid's scared out of his mind. Terrified."

"I'm not surprised," Violet said, despite her initial shock at hearing that someone wanted to marry her seventeen-year-old daughter. It was just young, Violet thought, that was all. But then again… "The way he looks at her, it's as if he's in awe. Have you noticed that?"

Ian nodded and they were both quiet for a minute, just looking at each other and wondering, and then Violet said, "It's not just him, is it? I've never seen Lily like this before. I know it's not as if she's ever brought a boy home before now, but all the same…" Violet sighed, trying to put her finger on what she wanted to say. "She just lights up around him, doesn't she? It's like neither of them can believe their luck."

"Sure seems that way," Ian agreed. He'd seen that light in their daughter's eyes, too, and he knew what it meant. "And you know something, Vi, I think it's good," he went on, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist and pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head and thought about it all again, and he came to the same conclusion as he always did.

"You watch them together," he said, and yawned, "and it's like nothing can go wrong."

* * *

Lily cried when her father told her. She hadn't wanted to; she'd wanted to be strong, to show him that she'd be okay, but her lip trembled and her vision blurred and being strong just wasn't an option. Ian hugged her and she held on tight, just in case he had any ideas about getting away from her right then and there. She nodded when he said it was going to be okay, that everything would be all right. She wasn't so sure, but she nodded, anyway, because it was what he wanted her to do and she couldn't begrudge him of this, not now when there was no chance, no hope, no redeemable cure. He was sick, irreparably so, and that was the end of it.

She spent her evening alone after that. She went to the park and sat on the swings, nudging herself back and forth, never taking her toes off the ground. She cried a little more, silently, staring at her knees and her shoes, and her teary eyes were so preoccupied that she didn't notice that anyone else was in the park with her.

Severus Snape hovered around under the slide, hidden in shadow. He wondered why Lily Evans was crying but knew he couldn't ask. As much as he hoped that she was crying over a nasty break-up with James Potter, he couldn't fool himself into actually believing it. He'd seen that inflated head, that arrogant swagger, wandering around town with Lily more than once that summer. They were always touching, Snape recalled, and he dreaded what he'd have to endure once they were all back under the same roof in just a few weeks' time. He hadn't dreaded anything for awhile now, and it was a strange feeling. He'd cursed eighteen people that summer, tortured sixteen, killed ten, and none of it made him feel quite the way he felt whenever he saw James Potter take Lily Evans's hand.

He watched that same girl wipe her eyes and leave the swing, her arms wrapping protectively around herself as she made her way home. Snape's eyes never left the spot where she'd sat, and the swing kept swaying, propelled by the breeze, back and forth, back and forth.

* * *

**SEPTEMBER**

They were still at Kings Cross. The war was still raging, lines were still being crossed and double-crossed. People were still fighting and grieving and dying. Sirius was still an outcast, Marlene was still an orphan, Alice was still planning her wedding. Andromeda was still pregnant, Bellatrix was still doing what she had to do, and Narcissa was still anticipating her new role as ringleader. Regulus was still unsure, and Snape was still bitter. Remus and Peter were still those inexcusable bachelors. James was still nervously fingering his Head Boy badge, and Lily was still slapping his hand away before he could accidentally prick himself on the pin. Lily was still prematurely mourning, still worried about what would happen when she got back to Hogwarts. Voldemort was still recruiting, discourse was still spreading. People were still fighting and living and loving. But they were still at Kings Cross, and the train was still boarding, and they were still going back.

* * *

**A/N:** _HELLO AGAIN. HERE ARE SOME THINGS:_

_In regards to the Doctor Who thing… It was 1970s Britain and Lily grew up in a Muggle household. She was totally a Whovian. HEADCANON ACCEPTED. _

_I checked the Black Family Tree on Harry Potter Lexicon to get the information necessary for the July segment, so PLEASE DO NOT YELL AT ME IF THAT INFORMATION IS INCORRECT because I didn't know. Some of the events described during the Petunia/Vernon, James/Lily dinner was gathered from Pottermore (although I'm still off-canon about the date of the meeting, details of the interaction have been cited by JKR on the website; I did, however, make up the caterpillar-mustache thing all by myself because I am an adult and these are the sort of judicious decisions I make on a daily basis)._

_I suppose this chapter was rather cluttered, wasn't it? I just had a lot of thoughts and I didn't want the summer to span more than one chapter, so… Le sigh, ah well, such is life. Hope you enjoyed it regardless. See you back at Hogwarts for Chapter 2! –K. _


	2. Easy Come, Complicated Go

_Hey, lovelies, and welcome to Chapter 2! Before we start, I just want to say that I've got quite a bit planned for this installment of the ARE trilogy, but if there's anything you'd like to see, shoot me a message on Tumblr at_ **cokebottleglassesarecool**_. Prompts are fantastic and I'll most certainly credit you if I use yours!_

_I'm introducing Rita Skeeter this chapter. She was at Hogwarts pre-Marauders era but I've got some good plot points that I could use her for; besides, everyone seemed to like Bertha Jorkins in ARE and as she's graduated, I figured this was the next best thing. I thought about doing an OC, but it would all just come out so Rita, anyway, that I didn't see the point. The important thing is that I acknowledge my blatant disregard for canon, so… No yelling at me, and I'll throw in some OCs (old and new) for good measure._

_Many thanks to the Tumblr anons who sent me prompts while I worked through this chapter, and even more thanks/hugs/high-fives/sophisticated face kisses to those who sent me messages of support while I was dealing with a momentary stupor. Y'all are the best, and I couldn't get through this without you._

* * *

_Give me more loving from the very start  
Piece me back together when I fall apart  
Tell me things you never even tell your closest friends  
Make it feel good when it hurts so bad  
The best that I've had  
And I'm so glad I found you  
I love being around you  
You make it easy…  
– Plain White T's –_

* * *

**Friday, 9:48 P.M.**

James rolled over the back of the couch and landed face-down in Lily's lap. It was the end of the week, he was exhausted, and the past five days had led him to a very important life decision.

"I quit," he declared, his voice muffled by Lily's skirt.

"What do you quit, love?" Lily asked, feigning sympathy as she ran comforting fingers through his dark hair.

"Everything." James turned his head so he was facing her stomach and she could hear him better. "I quit Head Boy, I quit Quidditch captain, I quit Hogwarts in general."

Lily rolled her eyes but continued dancing her fingers over him, through his hair, down the side of his face, over his neck to his shoulder and back into his hair again. "We've had one prefects' meeting, you haven't even held try-outs yet, and we've barely done anything in lessons thus far," she reminded him. "You're not quitting anything."

"But _Evaaaaaaans_…" James pouted and wrapped an arm around her waist. "The prefects are smarmy little blighters, all of them except Remus, and I s'pose Fenwick's all right, too, but _still_. And I'm never going to find Chasers like Cam and Frank, or a Keeper like Joyce, because everyone in Gryffindor's a right idiot who wouldn't know a Quaffle from a Snitch –"

"That is so fantastically untrue and you know it," Lily said, but James wasn't listening.

"– and lessons are going to be a right pain this year," he went on, and Lily tried not to smile at the blatant whining tone to his voice. "N.E.W.T. year and all that. It's all too much and you're the only one who can fix it. I want to quit, please, won't you let me?" He stared at her imploringly, his eyes wide and his mouth still pouting.

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. "Begging looks so unbecoming on you," she informed him dryly, "and I absolutely cannot fix it the way you'd like me to. Stop worrying so much; your paranoia is suffocating."

She smiled to warm him up a bit and went on, "James, you'll do wonderfully in exams, you wretchedly clever boy, and I'm sure you'll find three people who can ride a broomstick straight. As for the prefects, well, I can't do anything about them and I think you're overreacting, anyway."

"Hmmph." James kept his eyes on his fingers, which were kneading Lily's waist, pushing the material of her blouse back and forth. He knew she was right, but the week had been dreadful as he tried to acclimate to everything that was so – so _new_, and it was all so bittersweet at times that he was having a hard time dealing with it. He was worried about the Quidditch try-outs he'd scheduled for tomorrow, completely clueless about being Head Boy, and he wasn't really worried about N.E.W.T.s, but…

Well, he hadn't been nervous about them until the day before when McGonagall told him and Sirius off for making their salamanders tap-dance instead of Transfiguring them into sets of matches. She'd been her usual stern and steely self, telling them that they won't find it so funny when their examiners docked points for their obvious and frowned-upon candidness. Sirius had shrugged it off, but James found himself feeling a little ashamed, because he was Head Boy and he wanted to prove he'd earned that, but those things themselves were still taking some getting used to.

It wasn't all bad, though, James reminded himself as Lily's hands continued to soothe him. He was sure that he'd never get used to _her_, to having Lily Evans, to Lily Evans having him, but that was one thing he didn't want to get used to, anyway. He was continually shocked whenever he'd take her hand and drag her along to classes or meals, and all she did was roll her eyes and laugh instead of calling him a tosser and hexing him. In any case, he much preferred this perpetual state of wonder; it allowed him to appreciate her properly, and he never, ever wanted to take her for granted.

He looked up at her and smiled at her smile, the one that was so easy and honest and the one that he knew was just for him; he'd never seen her smile at anyone else quite like that. The way her eyes lit up when she looked at him made his heart spring and swell and practically burst with adoration and complete disbelief, because he was the lucky git who made her eyes and lips do the things they were doing when their corners crinkled and twitched.

He sighed deeply, contentedly, and all the weight from that week got a little less heavy as he said, "You're so pretty. Sleep in my dorm tonight, will you?"

A pink tinge crept its way across Lily's face; she'd never get used to the simplicity with which he said such things to her. He made it sound so easy, like he was just commenting on a simple truth like what the weather was like on any given day.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, keeping her eyes trained on the messy tresses of his hair. "And I will not."

"You are!" James said, abashed at her dismissal of his compliment and a little upset that she'd refused his offer. They hadn't spent an entire night in the same bed together since she'd visited him in July, and he _missed_ it. "And why not?"

"I'm not sleeping in your bed tonight," Lily reiterated, refusing to be moved by his declarations of her physical attributes. "You need to _sleep_; you've got try-outs in the morning."

"I know that, but you're still _pretty_," James said, and he kissed her stomach. It had taken him about a second to decide that making sure she knew she was bloody gorgeous was more important than getting her to spend a good eight hours cuddling with him. "So pretty it hurts, physically, to stare at you as much as I do."

Lily laughed. "That doesn't sound like a compliment, you know."

James wanted to roll his eyes but couldn't manage even feigned exasperation when she was laughing like that. "You blind me with your radiance, then, how's that?" he tried.

"I don't know..." Lily seemed to think about it. "I quite liked all that talk about how dead sexy I am, personally."

"Evans, you're not allowed to be dead sexy without a lower back tattoo, and I know for a _fact_ that you haven't got one. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for radiance."

"I can't decide if I should be offended or not."

James shot her a mischievous grin. "Sleep in my bed tonight, yeah, and I'll show you just how radiant I think you are…"

Lily smacked him lightly over the side of his head. "You need to sleep on your own tonight, hotshot," she said. "I don't need you passing out during try-outs and making some arbitrary decisions about who's on the team. They'd probably be rubbish and I'd have to kill you for spoiling the season."

"Your Quidditch mania rivals only that of my own," James noted, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. "Does that mean you'll come watch tomorrow?"

"Of course I will," Lily said, as if he hadn't even had to ask. She bent to press a firm, lingering kiss to his temple. "You do a good enough job, and I promise that I'll sleep in your bed tomorrow night. I miss it too, you know."

James smiled. Oh, the way he loved her… "You keep saying that you're pants at Legilimency, Evans, but I just don't believe you."

Lily smiled back at him. "Some things I've got to keep under wraps, Potter," she said loftily. "I can't have you knowing that even though you thought you were the one chasing me for two years, the actual fact is that I spent all my time getting into your head. I figured out exactly how to get you to chase me in the first place, and – oh dear, I've said too much…"

"I knew it!" James sat up, gathered Lily in his arms, and collapsed back onto the couch so she was laughing on top of him. He planted kisses over her face with every "I knew it" that he repeated, right until his mouth landed on hers and silenced them both.

James sighed deeply when Lily's tongue met his, and he really felt the week's frustrations slip away completely, as though they'd never been hanging over his head at all. One of his hands twisted in her hair, and the other toyed with the hem of her blouse, teasing the skin of her back and her sides with his callused fingers and palms. Lily's hands ran back and forth across his shoulders, tracing circles on his neck, and James felt one of her legs slide up and down against his. He tilted his head to change the angle, to make the kiss go deeper, and one of Lily's hands left his shoulder to brace against the arm of the couch behind him. He disentangled his fingers from her hair to further explore the skin of her back, her waist, her ribcage…

"Are you sure I can't convince you to come upstairs with me?" James murmured against her mouth. He pinched her waist and she giggled.

"Not tonight," she told him, breaking the kiss so she could look at him better. She brushed his hair back, her fingers taking their time with the continuously mussed locks of jet black. "We get a bit distracted from what we're supposed to be doing when we get in the same bed, don't you think?"

"No way." James's hands trailed down to her thighs. "I think we do _exactly_ what we're supposed to be doing."

Lily smacked him playfully and he took her hand, kissing her wrist the way he knew would make her melt. She did, too, but she still wasn't caving and she told him so. James sighed but knew it was for the best; he really did have to get a good night's rest if he wanted to keep his head on straight during try-outs in the morning. So he stood up from the couch, taking Lily with him so he could walk her to the girls' staircase. He kissed her again, once, long and lingering, his fingertips playing with the smooth surface of her skin. She smiled at him when they broke apart, ruffled his hair up a bit more, and told him she'd see him on the pitch tomorrow. James watched her skip upstairs, smiling, and then he went up to his own dorm.

The rest of the Marauders were already asleep, so James changed quietly and slipped under the cool bedsheets. He tossed his glasses rather carelessly onto the nightstand and stared up into the darkness of his canopy, thinking…

One thing James had noticed about that week – and perhaps that was why it had been so exhausting in the first place – was how often he almost slipped, how many times he had very nearly said "I love you" in response to something Lily said or did. It was never intended to be a big show, either; it would be casual, like a reflex, but he'd stopped himself because he'd remember at the very last second that the first time he told her _had_ to be a big show. It had to be important and romantic and it had to sweep her off her feet, and he just hadn't figured out how to do that yet. But all the same, he'd come so close so many times.

When they'd been at breakfast and she let him eat the last kipper and he'd kissed her soundly on the cheek to keep himself from saying it, he'd wanted to say it because he knew how much she liked nicking his kippers and she _didn't_ this time. When he'd been frustrated with figuring out the patrol schedule, she'd taken it and told him to go let off steam with the boys, and he'd wanted to say it because she was so understanding. Whenever she reassured him and told him that he was brilliant, he wanted to say it because she was brilliant, too, and because she put jam on both sides of her toast and she loved Quidditch and she made him laugh. When she kissed him and she meant it – Merlin, how she meant it, he just knew it – he wanted to say it because there was nothing else for him to say when they broke apart. Whenever she took his hand and squeezed his fingers, he wanted to say it just because. And just now, when she'd given him that smile, he'd wanted to say it because that smile was his and he wanted her to know what that meant to him. When she said she'd kill him if he spoiled the Gryffindors' Quidditch season, he'd wanted to say it because she was crazy and he felt it and it was his kind of crazy and it was _perfect_. She was perfect, and she was his, and he wanted to soak up every last ounce of that feeling.

And still, it was less about the want and more about how it was always, _always_ on the tip of his tongue. It was so easy to slip into love with her that it only seemed natural to say it just as easily.

But he still couldn't tell her. Wasn't it too fast? James wasn't actually sure that he knew, wasn't sure what he even thought about it, but he couldn't push. Lily had enough to mull over and worry about without her mad boyfriend declaring his insane love for her.

And he was afraid, too, he admitted privately, because what if she didn't say it back? What if she didn't feel it? What if she fancied him and that was all? It should be enough, it _was_ enough, but if James asked for more, well, maybe right now that would be too much.

He sighed heavily and stared up at the canopy of his four-poster. So much for getting any sleep.

* * *

**Saturday, 8:32 A.M.  
The Quidditch Pitch**

Although it was still September, the morning was early enough that the air was chill and everyone on the Quidditch pitch had dressed for such conditions. James rubbed his hands together as soon as he was done rubbing the tiredness from his eyes, which were now scanning the gaggle of new Gryffindors chatting amongst themselves and his team as they waited for try-outs to begin.

He yawned hugely and turned to Sirius, who was standing next to him. "I don't recognize any of these people," he muttered, his voice hoarse from lack of proper sleep. Lily Evans, keeping him up as usual and she didn't even realize it.

"Yeah, neither do I," Sirius said. "Bunch of younger kids, eh? I reckon a few of them are fifth-year; they don't know what they're in for, Quidditch and O.W.L.s and all that other rubbish they've got to do this year –"

"Quidditch isn't rubbish," James grumbled.

"Well, _I_ know that." Sirius waved off his friend's minor annoyance. "I'm trying out for Chaser, aren't I? Mind you, I'm not doing it for my health. This is all for you, mate."

James nodded. He knew Sirius was only trying out because he'd practically begged him to a few days ago. James just couldn't deal with three inexperienced players, not after having lost three of the best when Cam, Frank, and Joyce had left Hogwarts. He knew Sirius could play, and Sirius was good, and that was all James needed.

He yawned again and let his eyes wander around the stands. There were some Gryffindors, some Hufflepuffs, a few Ravenclaws, a handful of Slytherins; the general penchant for Quidditch was such that a good number of people tended to show up to watch House team try-outs. As he continued to check out the spectators, James's gaze fell on the approaching figures of Remus, Peter, Alice, Marlene, and – his heart skipped up into his throat – Lily.

"Be right back," he said to Sirius, who looked over his shoulder and grinned as James jogged a bit to meet up with the group. Sirius shook his head a bit; no matter how long James and Lily were together, he was sure it would always be dead funny to watch his best mate trip over himself for her.

"Morning," James said when he reached them, his eyes on Lily alone as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Their friends shook their heads much like Sirius had and continued on their way to the stands, leaving the two more or less alone; neither James nor Lily noticed. "I like your sweatshirt."

"Thought you might." Lily smiled and leaned back a little, offering him a piece of toast she'd hidden up the sleeve of James's stolen sweatshirt to keep her hands warm. "Do you want this? You weren't at breakfast."

"Yes," James said gratefully. He almost said it again – those three, little, terrifying words – all because of a bit of breakfast. _Merlin, Potter, get your head on straight…_ To distract himself, he leaned forward and took a large bite of the toast that Lily held out to him. "Tried to sleep in a bit, but it was a no-go. Rough night. Sleepless, really. Guess you should have kept me company, after all."

"Hmmm." Lily stood on her toes so she could kiss him. "You know, it was tempting, but I care far more about Quidditch than I do about your well-being."

"You're such a charmer, Evans." James took the rest of the toast into his mouth and Lily wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything about her boyfriend's questionable eating mannerisms. James spun around, taking Lily's hand in his, and started walking back down the pitch. "Ready to witness the brilliant leadership qualities that made Dumbledore give me Head Boy?"

"Ready and raring, Potter," Lily said, quickening her step to keep up with his. "Alice brought the smelling salts just in case I faint from the shock of it, too."

James stopped suddenly, turning again so that Lily slammed into his chest, and before she could ask him what the hell he was doing, he'd dipped his head and captured her lips with his.

"Hilarious," he murmured against her mouth, his hands moving to hold her face between them. He pulled away just an inch or so and continued, "Your never-ending wit is unfairly sexy, you know."

"Mmmm." Lily sighed and wrapped her arms around James's waist. "Shut up and kiss me, Potter."

James grinned and leaned in again. "Anything for you, Evans."

His lips slid over hers, his bottom one jutting between the two of hers so they separated and he could slip his tongue inside. Lily sighed again, stood on her toes, and widened her mouth so the kiss could deepen, her arms moving to wind around James's neck and bringing his mouth more firmly against hers. She loved kissing him, every second of it, no matter how cold her nose was or how chapped his lips were. It didn't matter, not as long as she was caught up in his arms and it was just him and her, just for a little while or a long while if they were lucky. But then, Lily thought as James nudged her closer, she was lucky, anyway, no matter how long or little the while was, as long as it was just the two of them.

As it turned out, they only had about thirty seconds before the all-too-near sound of quill scratching against parchment reached their ears. They broke apart, looked at each other curiously, and James said, "What the ruddy hell is that?"

"That's me," said a new voice, and Lily and James turned their heads to see a not-so-apologetic-looking girl standing not ten feet away, quill poised over parchment. She had curly hair and ugly glasses and she said, "Rita Skeeter. Slytherin. Fifth year. How d'you do?"

"Er…" James released Lily but slid one of his hands into hers to keep her at his side. He gave her a sideways look but she shrugged, just as clueless as he was. "Fine, I guess? Can – can we help you with something?"

Rita gave him a simpering little smile. "Just observing," she said. Then, without so much as a warning or a transition or anything else, she asked, "How long have you two been together?"

Lily and James looked at each other again, a little startled, both of them blinking as if that would rid them of their shock-induced silence. _What the hell?_ James mouthed at her, but Lily just shrugged again and mouthed back, _Fuck if I know._

"Well?" Rita prompted, too busy scribbling to catch their silent exchange.

"Well, I s'pose it'd be…" James thought about it. He and Lily had never decided when exactly they'd gotten together, whether they counted December or March as the beginning of their relationship; the only thing that had mattered to either of them was that it had happened at all. "Maybe… erm…"

"'Round about nine months," Lily chimed in. She responded to James's grateful expression with a crooked little grin. "Give or take, anyway."

The other girl's thickly drawn eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch on her forehead. "Nine months," she repeated. "Long time. Are you shagging?"

"_What?"_ Lily couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped with the question. "I'm sorry, but who are you again and why do you want to know?"

"Rita Skeeter," she said again, more slowly this time. She looked up from her parchment and regarded the couple shrewdly. "Tell me, Lily Evans, what made you ditch Diggory and go for Potter?"

Lily's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Are you sure your surname's Skeeter?" she wanted to know. "You're not a – oh, I don't know – _Jorkins_, perhaps?"

Rita offered them that simpering little smile again and said, "You two are _awfully_ evasive, aren't you? Typical, typical…" She sighed and folded her parchment, shaking her head as she started to walk away. "I'll see you both around, then," Rita Skeeter called over her shoulder, not bothering to look back at them.

The couple looked at each other, blinked a few more times, and Lily said, "Well, that was…"

"Strange?" James offered lamely.

Lily nodded. "To put it lightly. Oh, well." She shrugged and kissed his cheek. "I'd better go find the others. You've got some brilliant leadership qualities to demonstrate."

"Right." James took a breath as he watched Lily jog off towards the stands, steeling himself to deal with these damnable try-outs. He rumpled his hair up a bit and made his way back to the center of the pitch where Sirius and the other Gryffindors were waiting.

Up in the stands, Lily had settled herself between Alice and Remus, the latter of whom was looking off to his left. Curious, Lily leaned back so she could get at the right angle to see what he was seeing and she asked, "Whatcha looking at, Remus?"

He jumped a little in his seat, his face reddening slightly, and he said, "Oh – er – nothing. Just – mind's just wandering off, that's all."

Lily lifted an eyebrow at him but didn't press the issue. She was almost one hundred percent sure that Remus's attention had been caught by a girl who was sitting next to that over-inquisitive Rita Skeeter bird. Lily recognized the girl as Dorcas Meadowes, a seventh-year Slytherin who kept mostly to herself. _Hmmm…_ Lily shot Remus another speculative look but didn't think it would be a good idea to push his buttons right then and there. She'd save her third degree for later.

Instead, Lily turned back to the group as a whole and asked, "Any of you know this fifth-year – Rita Skeeter?"

"In passing," Alice said. "From what I've heard, she's sort of the Bertha Jorkins of the younger set."

"Oh, gross," Marlene said from her seat in front of them. "Like we need another one of those."

"Well, as the position of gossip queen's now open…" Alice let that thought trail off and looked at Lily. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, she just interrupted me and James and started asking all these leading questions about our sex life and how I ditched Diggory," Lily said flippantly. "Bit annoying, that's all, so I was just wondering."

Peter turned in his seat next to Marlene to look at Lily over his shoulder, a slight frown creasing his brow as he tried to keep up with the inane gossip surrounding his friends. "You never even went out with Diggory."

"I know." Lily blew some hair out of her face. "Funny thing is, nobody else seems to."

The conversation trailed off as the group watched James run the dozen or so Gryffindors through basic drills – passing, shooting, swerving, diving. Three of them collided, their heads knocking together, one of their noses definitely breaking; another one got knocked off their broomstick by a passing Bludger, and still another got distracted by a shout from their friend in the stands, and they consequently flew smack into a goalpost.

"This is a right nightmare, isn't it?" Marlene observed cheerfully, enjoying herself and the spectacle as chaos unfolded on the pitch.

Lily smacked her upside the head. "Don't sound so pleased," she said. "This is the saddest thing I've ever seen."

"You don't have to hit me," Marlene muttered, rubbing the back of her skull. "And look, Sirius is rather good, isn't he, and I'm not just saying that because I have a girlfriend's obligation to. That little dark-haired girl, too, she's blocked just about every shot." Marlene squinted her eyes, trying to get a clearer picture of the girl blocking the hoops. "Who is that, anyway?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Honestly, does anyone know anyone else?" she wanted to know. "That's Romy Vinner. Another fifth year, I think, and she's Gwen McIntyre's cousin."

"Oh?" One of Lily's eyebrows shot up again. "Well. That's… hmm."

Marlene shot her friend a grin. "Don't tell me you're worried about that, Lil," she said. "Fancying someone isn't exactly genetic, is it?"

Lily kicked her. "I didn't say anything," she pointed out just a tad moodily. Of course she wasn't worried about Gwen McIntyre or any other girls; she and James were steady, constant, _good_, and there was no reason to be worried about anything, even if those other birds grated on Lily's nerves like nothing else.

"You didn't have to." Marlene caught her foot and tickled the back of her knee, causing Lily to laugh uncontrollably when Marlene refused to quit. "My poor ickle Lily-kins, you're getting to be just as bad as your boyfriend when it comes to the green monster of jealousy, aren't you?"

"I'm _not_," Lily protested, still laughing as she failed to release herself from Marlene's iron grip. "Mar, oh my god, would you _stop_ –"

"Oy!" James was flying past them, and he paused to hover in front of their seats, the Quaffle tucked safely under his arm. "McKinnon, get your hands off my girlfriend, will you? I can hear her laughing clear across the pitch and it's distracting."

"Yeah, yeah." Marlene dropped Lily's leg. "Go do your job, why don't you?"

James tossed the Quaffle in the air, spinning it on his fingertips. "Done and done," he said, winking at Lily as he sped back down the pitch to continue the scrimmage.

About an hour later, James and the rest of the Gryffindor team were huddled in the middle of the pitch, discussing how try-outs had gone and who they should stick with if they wanted to take the Cup that year.

"Black's good," Sarah Blake said. "Might as well keep him on, since about half a dozen of the other ones couldn't stay on their broomsticks."

Oliver Tipton nodded. "I second that."

James looked at his Seeker. "What d'you reckon, Okerley? Good on Sirius?"

"Yeah," Raiff agreed. "That Vinner bird's good, too, for Keeper. Good-_looking_, too. Help a bloke out, eh, Captain?"

James grinned and ruffled up Raiff's thick mop of hair. "You're lucky she blocked so many shots, or I'd have to tell you to forget it," he said. "All right, so Sirius and Vinner it is. That leaves us with one open Chaser spot…" He pulled away from the group and cupped his hands around his mouth so that his voice was sure to carry up to the stands. "Oy! Evans! You wanna do your devilishly handsome boyfriend a favor?"

Lily hopped down to the bleacher at the front of the stands, leaned over the edge, and shouted back, "What is it?"

"Fancy playing Chaser for me?"

"Ha!" Lily laughed and shook her head. "Playing Quidditch isn't good for my anger management issues!"

James smiled and shrugged good-naturedly, then turned back to his team. "All right, so that's a no," he said. "How about that Merriman bloke, then? He was pretty good."

The rest of the team agreed, and the four of them trooped back to the other Gryffindors, most of whom were sporting fantastic injuries. James thanked them all and gave them his final word, then suggested that most of them head up to the hospital wing before their injuries could set, as he was sure Pomfrey would be after him if he sent her a bunch of maimed students the first weekend of term.

"See, mate?" Sirius clapped a hand on James's shoulder as the rest of the Gryffindors were leaving. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Yeah." James yawned and was just fantasizing about collapsing back into bed with Lily – she had promised, after all – when suddenly a whirl of caramel curls came whipping into his line of vision and two skinny arms threw themselves around his neck. "What the –"

"Thank you so much!" Romy Vinner gushed as she hugged him, nearly strangling him with the intensity of the embrace. "You have no idea how hard I trained for this all summer! I'm so excited –"

"Er… great." James patted her awkwardly on the back as he shot Sirius a confused look over the top of Romy's head. Sirius just shrugged one shoulder and was looking at Romy like she was drenched in Bubotuber pus or something. "We'll see you at practice on Thursday, then."

"Can't wait!" Romy squeezed him one more time and James was sure that at least one of his lungs was about to give out, but then she released him. "My cousin was so wrong about you, you know. Gwen said you were sort of a berk, right, but – well, whatever." Romy shrugged a little and smiled. "See you Thursday!"

James waited until Romy was out of earshot before he turned back to Sirius and said, "What is it with these crazy birds today, eh? First that Skeeter was tossing out all these questions at me and Lily, and now this…" He massaged the corners of his eyes with his middle finger and thumb. "I need some sleep."

He and Sirius made their way to the bottom of the stands where their friends were waiting, and James saw that Lily was once again immersed in conversation with Rita Skeeter, who was scratching away at her parchment and nodding along with whatever Lily was saying to her. As James got closer, he saw that Lily seemed hard-pressed to keep from bursting out in laughter.

"– you know, I just think that Macnair went a bit more for brawn than any actual talent," she was telling Rita. "No offense to your House or anything, of course, but the Quidditch team's a bit of a laugh."

"Like I give a hot damn about Quidditch," Rita said easily. "So you think Gryffindor will take the Cup this year, then?"

"Oh, sure, maybe," Lily said, smiling at James when he reached her and dropped an arm around her shoulders. "As long as Potter learns to steer clear of Bludgers this season, anyway."

Rita looked up then and said, "Do you usually call each other by your surnames?" she asked, switching gears from Quidditch to Lily and James's relationship so quickly that it seemed like it was second nature to her. "Is that a bedroom thing? Or a broom cupboard, empty classroom, deserted corridor thing?" Rita gestured with her quill. "Take your pick."

"It's a none-of-the-above thing," Lily said before James could crack any incriminating jokes. "You got what you need, then?"

"Oh, yes." Rita nodded vigorously and tucked her parchment away. "Yes, I've got plenty, thank you."

She sauntered off to the other end of the stands where Dorcas Meadowes was waiting for her, and James turned to Lily and asked, "What'd she want this time?"

"She's working on some pieces to put together for her portfolio," Lily told him. "She's looking to get some internship at the _Daily Prophet_ next summer so she's running herself through practice articles. Sports, human interest, you know…" Lily waved a dismissive hand. "That's why she was interrogating us. Polishing up her interviewing skills and all that."

"What were you trying not to laugh at, then?"

"Just thinking about the Slytherin team, it's _funny_."

The two were hailed by their friends then, everyone eager to get back to their dorms for a nap before lunch, so the group set off over the grounds towards the castle. Halfway there, Marlene grabbed Lily's elbow and pulled her out from under James's arm with a halfhearted apology and a "I need to borrow her, all right? You don't have to be so dejected-puppy about it."

Lily gave James a quick, consolatory kiss before she fell back into step between Alice and Marlene, who were hanging back from the boys with purposefully slower strides. Intrigued, Lily met their pace and looked back and forth between them. "What's all this about, then?"

"Remus," Alice said quietly, just in case any of the Marauders were listening in. "Did you see him? He kept sneaking not-so-subtle glances at Dorcas Meadowes."

"I noticed, yeah," Lily said. "You reckon he fancies her?"

"Maybe," Marlene said, "but Peter does for sure. When you were chatting up Skeeter, he pulled me aside and asked me if I knew her – Dorcas, I mean – and I told him I knew her just about as well as he did, probably. He got all red and said he thought that maybe we were chummy because we're both girls or something." Marlene rolled her eyes. "That boy doesn't know the first thing about girls, does he? Not surprising when you look at his mates, though."

"Right, well…" Alice looked contemplative and a little bit worried. "Is it just me, or does this have the potential to be a bit of a mess?"

Lily nodded. "Major potential, I think," she agreed. Her eyes fell on the four boys walking a ways in front of them, laughing loudly at something one of them had said, shoving each other playfully, sinking into the easiness of their friendship. "I dunno if I like the thought of it."

"Aw, come on." Marlene waved a hand as if to brush her friends' worries aside. "It's Remus. And Peter. For Merlin's sake, they're not exactly romantically dramatic, are they? I mean, first you've got to assume that at least one of them would make a move on Dorcas and, well…"

Marlene trailed off rather uselessly, but both Alice and Lily understood her point: Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew weren't exactly the take-charge types, nor had either of them seemed all that inclined to jump into a relationship when the girls had brought it up to them over the summer. They were the reasonable ones, and not exactly prone to the sort of hot-headedness that James and Sirius habitually exuded. So for the time being, the girls let the topic drop off, prepared to pick it back up again if the situation called for it. Lily toyed around with the idea of picking it up regardless, but when they walked through the front doors into the entrance hall and James scooped her up in his arms, she laughed and figured the rest of it could wait 'til later.

* * *

**12:15 P.M.**

James laid awake, tracing patterns on Lily's shoulder as she slept next to him. Sirius, Remus, and Peter had left for the Great Hall about half an hour ago, but James hadn't felt like rousing Lily to join their friends; he'd much rather spend a happy hour or two alone with her, even if she slept through it. He was surprised that he hadn't fallen right back into unconsciousness after telling the boys he was staying in, but something in his head or his stomach or his heart implored him to keep his eyes open. So he did.

Some of Lily's long red hair had fallen into her face, fluttering every time she inhaled, exhaled. One of her arms was flung over James's waist, and the other was folded beneath her, her hand curled into a fist under her chin. She cleared her throat every so often, sniffling here and there, and James wondered if she'd caught cold that morning when she was watching try-outs. He frowned a little at the thought and pushed the hair out of her face. The last thing Lily needed on top of everything else was to get sick.

Not that she seemed to be caving under the pressure like he was, James thought as he went back to ghosting his fingertips over her arm. While James felt more or less helpless as Head Boy, Lily had taken her own headship in stride, even though she had confided to him earlier that week that she'd been a little surprised at her appointment, considering the fight she'd had with the Slytherins near the end of last term. It seemed to James that Lily felt like she had something to prove because of that, like she had to show them all that her responsibilities and her integrity were more important than some tiresome blood feud. She was banking down her temper, James knew, and he only hoped that he could do the same.

Of course, there was still the old matter of Jenny Jenkins, too. James knew that still weighed heavily on Lily, haunting her like a recurring nightmare, even if she wasn't totally conscious of it. Death itself seemed to serve as a shroud for her lately, hanging over her shoulders… James dreaded the day Lily got a letter informing her of Ian's passing, feared it just about as much as she did. But neither of them talked about that much; Lily didn't want to and James didn't push it.

He could at least be thankful that some of the old irritants had disappeared. No more Bertha Jorkins or Amos Diggory, no more Bellatrix or Rodolphus… Sure, there was still Snape and Mulciber and Narcissa, so on and so forth, but James would take alleviated pressures where he could get them; he wouldn't be picky. And he was sure they'd all feel better about that once Dumbledore talked to them about whatever mad idea he'd gotten Frank and the Prewetts into last year. Now it was just the matter of the waiting game.

Lily yawned then, her eyes blinking open and crinkling at the corners when they adjusted to see James smiling softly at her.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," he greeted her quietly.

"Mmmm…" Lily groaned a little and rubbed her eyes. "Why are you awake? I thought you didn't sleep last night."

James shrugged one shoulder. "Remus woke me up when they were going to lunch and I just stayed up after that."

"Are you hungry?"

"Nope."

Lily raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You just want to stay in bed all day?"

"If you stay with me, yeah."

"Oh." Lily smiled and snuggled closer, tightening her grip on James's waist. The way he just let the loveliest little things slip off his tongue like that… She shook her head a little and wondered at her stupid good luck. "I think I can manage that."

James tilted his head to get a look at her. "What are you shaking your head at?" he asked.

"Nothing," Lily said, and then, "Well, you, actually, so I guess that's more like everything."

"That right?" James's heart skipped past a few beats to skitter happily around his ribcage. "Way to feed my ego. Seems to me like you really did fancy my fat head, after all."

Lily snorted, her breath tickling the base of James's throat. "Your fat head was the reason I jinxed you so much," she reminded him. "And of course you're _everything_, you know, to a respectable extent, considering I –"

She stopped abruptly and bit her lip. She did not almost say that, did she? Lily wondered a bit wildly. She had, she knew she had – she'd almost let it slip just as easily as James said all the things he said. But this was one thing he _hadn't_ said, and Lily had no idea if he felt the same way. Sure, he'd been after her for a couple of years before she'd finally said okay, but that was no indication for something as serious as love, and maybe-unrequited love was far too terrifying to be taken less than seriously.

James couldn't mistake the heavy-handed silence that followed and he had to prod about a bit, so he said, "Considering you… what?"

"Just… considering," Lily said uselessly. She glanced up at him. "I'm your everything to a respectable extent, too, yeah?"

"Yeah." James smiled and danced his fingers across the warm skin of her lower back. "I mean, let's be honest, love – I don't think a more obvious thing has ever existed."

They were quiet then, both of them wondering if those exchanged admissions were good enough, wondering if the other would interpret it the way it was meant. It was as good as an "I love you," wasn't it? Lily played with the collar of James's T-shirt and James rubbed the small of Lily's back, and they both worked up the courage to just _say_ it already. They felt it, they showed it, so why not put all their cards on the table and make it known, without a doubt, that it was him and her forever and that was that?

_Because I'm an idiot?_ they guessed privately at about the same time, and they both silently resolved to work on that.

* * *

**A/N:** _Next chapter – a concentration on Lily's POV, the up-and-coming Death Eaters, Remus and Peter, and Rita Skeeter's social commentary. See you then! –K._


	3. Sense

_If I could grant you one wish  
I'd wish you could see the way you kiss  
Ooh, I love watching you, baby  
When you're driving me crazy… /  
Someday I'll find a way to show you  
Just how lucky I am to know you…  
– Faith Hill –_

* * *

**Monday, 7:09 P.M.**

Lily sighed without really thinking about it. She was sitting in the library, her elbow propped on the table and her chin in her hand, her eyes following James's slow progress down the length of a shelf. Occasionally he'd lift a hand and run idle fingertips over the spines of books, looking for what he needed. He'd pick one up and rifle through it, put it back, bend slightly to look at a lower shelf and straighten to look at the higher ones. She loved the way he moved, the way his brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes scanned book titles, the way he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the carpet whenever he paused for a second or two.

She wondered if he had any idea the effect he had on her, just by doing what he did and being who he was. Something – _everything_, really – about James Potter got to her, right in her gut, shaking her core and her will and her knees, always crumbling whenever he touched her or talked to her or so much as looked at her. The way she loved him… It was getting a little out of hand.

Lily sighed again and shook her head, tearing her eyes away from his wandering form to look back at her homework. She couldn't tell him yet, so there was no point in obsessing over it – even if she did it, anyway, at least she attempted to concentrate on other things. And she had plenty to occupy her time, too, Lily reminded herself. She chewed on the end of her quill and stared blankly at her parchment, mulling it all over…

In retrospect, the first week of term seemed like something of a free pass – everyone left everyone else alone and all was fine and good within the walls of Hogwarts for a record seven days. Looking back, Lily thought she'd really taken that first week for granted.

It wasn't just the personal taunts she had to endure anymore, either, Lily thought. As Head Girl, she was dealing with a lot more disciplinary action, and even after two years' practice as a prefect, the amount of animosity between the Houses and their inhabitants astounded her. It wasn't even so much about House loyalty anymore – no, Hogwarts itself was a war zone now, and it was blood versus blood. There wasn't much of a pattern to it, unless you counted the fact that it was the Muggle-borns getting attacked; the blood status of the attacker tended to be up for grabs.

It was sick and it was sad and it was forcing Lily to despair at the possibility that it would ever change. She supposed that filling out so many improper-use-of-magic detention slips could do that to a person. It was having an adverse effect on James, too; Lily could see it in his tense posture, the way his jaw set and his hand twitched whenever he wrote "Mudblood" on another point-deduction slip for McGonagall to approve. He was frustrated, angry, on edge, and so was Lily. But after so many years of enduring such taunts, Lily had become desensitized where James was not, and she knew that was to her advantage. In any case, she wasn't ready to send any offending students to the hospital wing. James really had to hold in his temper, and he'd complained more than once that his Head Boyship was tampering with his ability to "deal with those shoddy little blighters." But they were dealing with it regardless, hanging on the best they could.

Lily pushed an agitated hand through her hair, clutching her fingers at the strands at the nape of her neck. She stared at the homework she'd spread out on the table, and wondered what the bloody hell good it would do to get through a History of Magic essay when everything else was so much more _important_.

She felt a gentle touch over the hand in her hair then, and looked up to see that James had rejoined her at the table. He was standing behind her, unclenching the fist she'd made, slipping his fingers through hers and smoothing her hair out with his free hand.

"You okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes, his voice hushed in the nearly empty library. His hand was rubbing over one of her shoulders now. "You seem tense."

Lily nodded. "Fine, mostly," she said, not sure if that were true but not knowing if there was a better answer. "Just a bit stressed."

"Yeah." James wrapped his arms around her, not letting go of her hand, and leaned down so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. "D'you want to call bollocks on this homework, then, go upstairs?"

"Maybe…" Lily looked guiltily at her parchment, but she knew she couldn't bring herself to give a damn about reviewing the Statute of Secrecy for a minimum of sixteen inches. It was no good. "Yeah, you know what, I can't concentrate on this. Let's go."

James smiled, pleased that she'd been so easily swayed since he couldn't be bothered with homework right then, either. He waited while Lily shoved her things back into her schoolbag and swung it over her shoulder, and then he took her hand in his and allowed that feeling to fill him up. Holding Lily Evans's hand was a much better feeling than all the agitation that had been hanging over his head for the past couple of weeks. _Everything_ about Lily Evans was a much better feeling than just about anything else, actually, come to think of it…

So when they'd walked down the corridor and up a hidden staircase into another deserted hallway, James tugged on Lily's hand and pulled her against his chest, spinning them around in that old silent dance.

Lily laughed and let her bag slip from her shoulder and onto the floor at their revolving feet. She looked up at James and gave him a half-smile and she told him, "I love it when you do this."

"Well, I am an exceptionally good dancer," James said, grinning back at her.

"Ugh." Lily rolled her eyes, but her exasperation with his arrogance was cut short when he dipped her and she laughed again. "You're impossible."

"And you're gorgeous." James pulled her back up and kissed her swiftly, soundly, on the mouth. "Even when you're stressed. Or annoyed, or angry, or happy, or doing your homework – more like when you're pretending to do your homework – you're always gorgeous."

Lily lifted an eyebrow at him. "Sounds like you want something, Potter."

"Oh, always, Evans." James quit spinning and caught her face in his hands. "So long as it's you, anyway."

He leaned in then and so did Lily, and as their lips collided and clung and deepened yet another mad, perfect, wonderful kiss, Lily thought about how goes-without-saying this sort of falling in love had been. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around James's neck and thought that, really, she should have seen it coming all along.

* * *

**Thursday, 9:12 A.M.**

The sky on the other side of the enchanted ceiling was a wall of stormy gray clouds, occasionally shaken by a flash of lightening and a far-off boom of thunder, all the while splattering with droplets of what promised to be a very cold rain.

Peter looked up at the ceiling, a little perturbed, and said, "So glad we've got Herbology this morning."

"Not as bad as Quidditch." Sirius shot James a sideways look. "Don't you check the weather before scheduling practices? Bad Captain."

"Suck it up," Lily interjected before James could get a word in. She pointed her fork at Sirius, not about to play around when it came to Quidditch. "You're still practicing."

"Yeah, yeah, crazy." Sirius flicked a blueberry at her. "Come hell or high water, right?"

"Famine or flu, death or dismemberment," Lily went on, whipping the berry at his face; he caught it easily in his mouth and winked at her. "And I think sickness or scabies was in there, too, wasn't it?"

James grinned like an idiot and slipped an arm around Lily's waist, pulling her against his side. "I'm so happy you're going out with me."

"Eurgh, please don't start snogging," Marlene said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "It's too early and I'd like to keep my breakfast down. Hard to do when you two are engaged in nauseating PDA."

"Said the girl who's shagging Sirius in broom cupboards," Alice remarked with a grin.

"Well, at least we _shut the_ _door_ –"

"Is that all we need to do, then?" Lily shrugged and turned to face James with one of those lovesick grins. "Not a problem."

Lily mimed shutting a door and, for good measure, locking it; James caught her chin and dipped his head to kiss her, all ketchup and hash browns and pumpkin juice, and James's hand slid around to cup the side of her neck, his thumb tracing around her earlobe and jawline, and Lily's skated over his waist, fingers keeping up a light caress, and they didn't care that they were in the middle of the Great Hall, their friends smirking at them or shaking their heads (or hitting them against the table, in Sirius's case), or that they were Head Boy and Girl so maybe they should keep their affection to a minimum because, really, why hide it –

"Ouch!" The pair sprung apart suddenly, a flash of pain having shot through them both, sparking unpleasantly at their lips. They looked at each other, confused. "What _was_ that?"

"The heat of our passion, I don't know…" Lily looked around the Great Hall. If anything, the sensation had felt like a jinx, and no matter how much their friends feigned sick, Lily was sure they wouldn't actually pull their wands out just because she was kissing James. No, it must have come from somewhere else…

Her eyes settled on the Slytherin table. Severus Snape was shoving something into the pocket of his robes, and Lily was willing to bet it was his wand, if the hasty look he shot her was any indication. _Well, if that's not the most disgusting, underhanded, petty thing… _

James followed her gaze and he scowled when he put two and two together. "Seriously?" he demanded, and he made to get up from his seat. "That's completely fucked, I'll show him –"

"You're not showing anybody anything." Lily caught his sleeve and pulled him back into his seat. "You're Head Boy now, how many times am I going to have to remind you? You can't just go pulling your wand on everyone who annoys you –"

"He hexed us first –"

"I'll hex him," Sirius offered.

"_No,"_ Lily said in a note of firm finality. "It's what he wants – for us to fight about it and for you to retaliate. I don't care what Snape's problem is, I'm not about to give any of the Slytherins that satisfaction –"

There was a pointed little cough from behind her, effectively cutting off whatever else she'd planned to say to pacify James and Sirius. Lily turned around to see an unexpected Dorcas Meadowes standing behind her. Everyone else was so busy exchanging looks or raising their eyebrows or silently laughing at the look on Peter's face to notice Remus's blush or how he was staring determinedly down at his fork.

"Couldn't help but overhear," Dorcas said without preamble, "so thought I should warn you… Don't let on that you're bothered about anything Rita might – er – _say_. She lives off the social despair of others."

Lily and James exchanged another one of the confused looks they were so prone to sharing lately. "We didn't tell her anything," Lily said, looking back at Dorcas. "Aside from how long we've been dating and how you lot are pants at Quidditch, I mean."

"Yeah, well…" Dorcas shrugged a little. "Let's just say that Rita's got a way with words, eh?"

"What do you care, anyway?" James asked, suspicious of this Slytherin none of them had ever really spoken to before.

Dorcas raised an eyebrow at his hostile tone. "Just thought I'd clue you in, that's all," she said. "I know Rita. She's my friend and I love her and everything, but she can be a bit much, y'know?"

"Right, well, thanks for the vague advice." James turned back around in his seat. "See you around, Meadowes."

"See you," Dorcas said with another shrug, smiling a little when Lily mouthed an apology for her boyfriend's behavior. Lily waited until Dorcas had made her way down to the other end of the Gryffindor table before turning back to James and smacking him.

"_Ouch."_ James glared at her. "What was that for?"

"What do you have to be such a prat for?" Lily countered. "She was only trying to help us. You don't have to alienate that."

"Help?" James repeated incredulously. "So she makes some throwaway observation about how Skeeter can be 'a bit much,' so what? I don't call that _help_, Evans –"

"To be fair," Peter interjected, "I mean, Skeeter is her friend, isn't she? I reckon Meadowes doesn't want to be a lousy mate, that's all."

"Look, I don't care what it is," James said, sore about Snape's interference a few minutes ago. After six-plus years of dealing with it, he'd had enough of Slytherin – enough of Snape, enough of every Black except Sirius, enough of Skeeter and Meadowes and he'd only been made aware of their existence a few days ago. It didn't matter. The frustration was too much and he was sick of it.

He dropped his cutlery onto his plate with a clatter, ran an aggravated hand through his hair, and said, "I'm going to class. See you lot there." He swung his leg over the bench and made his way out of the Great Hall.

Sirius looked at Lily. "Rock-paper-scissors for who goes after him?"

Lily smiled but shook her head. "I'll do it. No offense, love, but I reckon I can make him feel better about this than you can."

"Hardly," Sirius scoffed. "I hate the Slytherins about as much as he does. More, really, considering my personal connection."

"_Not_ what I meant," Lily said meaningfully as she stood.

Sirius got the message. "You're right," he said, and waved his hands at her. "Go on, get out of here, I am not about to do whatever it is you've got planned for him…"

"You're so stupid," Marlene said to Sirius as Lily made her way out of the hall after James. "After all those times I've made you _feel better_, and you can't get the hint?"

"You're right, I've just got the thickest skull." Sirius pretended to pout. "I feel right awful about that, too, McKinnon. Awful – devastated, even, so I think I could use some of that cheering up…"

While Sirius and Marlene continued to bicker flirtatiously, Alice turned her attention to the last two Marauders. Peter was playing with his food and Remus was staring at his fork and Alice couldn't help but wonder if any of that had something to do with the pretty Slytheirn who had graced their table only a few minutes ago.

"What's up with you two?" she prompted after watching them for another moment.

Peter shrugged and said something else about the weather, and then he and Alice were off on a conversation about that year's lessons. Remus didn't say anything at all, too lost in his own thoughts and not willing to share them.

He knew he was being transparent – at least, transparent enough that Lily, Alice, and Marlene had all seen through him. It wasn't like he'd been subtle during Quidditch try-outs on Saturday morning, and Lily might as well have called him out then and there. He was glad she hadn't, but all the same Remus chastised himself for being so obvious; he didn't want anyone to know.

Remus Lupin had never fancied anyone before. He didn't really know Dorcas Meadowes; he knew she was a seventh year, a Slytherin, he knew that she had a lot of pretty blonde hair and bright eyes and very red lips, and that was about it. That wasn't enough to fancy someone, was it? Remus wondered for the hundredth time. Sure, James's infatuation with Lily had started back in fourth year when they'd been paired together in Charms and later James said something about how good she smelled, how nice her smile was, all of that, but they weren't fourteen anymore and Remus just didn't think that sort of thing was enough to justify that achy feeling in his gut. He never thought he'd get that achy feeling, actually, because he'd spent so long believing that it only came with knowing someone, and he'd told himself a long time ago that he wouldn't let anyone get that close romantically. What was the point? They'd just run away, in the end.

Besides, it was obvious that Peter had that same feeling for the same girl. Remus wasn't stupid, and he wasn't going to compete with anyone for something he ultimately wouldn't let himself have, anyway. Yes, Dorcas Meadowes was pretty and she seemed nice, but Remus thought it was best to just nip this thing in the bud and let it go, forget about it. He tugged at his tie and wished it was that easy.

He was snapped out of his musings by Marlene, who was jabbing him repeatedly in the side and telling him that it was time for class. She was giving him a funny look, too, and Remus knew he'd be hearing about this later from her or Alice or Lily. He'd always been a pretty terrible liar, too; it hadn't taken his friends very long to figure out his lycanthropy, after all, so he supposed it wouldn't take the girls long to decipher the reason behind his reticence.

_Nice one, Remus_, he grumbled to himself as he followed his friends out of the Great Hall and towards the greenhouses. Part of him wished that the girls had figured out his "furry little problem," too. That, Remus thought as he traipsed his way down the rain-soaked grounds, would be less painful than whatever he was feeling about some bright-eyed girl he barely even knew.

* * *

**8:30 P.M.**

The Gryffindor Quidditch team (minus Sirius, who had rushed off to a hidden staircase along the third floor corridor to meet Marlene) clambered through the portrait hole, soaked and muddy after a two-hour practice. James had run them into the ground, working out that week's frustrations on his team and on himself. He couldn't say it had the desired effect; sure, he was bloody and bruised and dirty and sore, but his agitation at the Slytherins hadn't been worked off entirely. It didn't help, either, that he was second-guessing his new recruits. More specifically, one fifth-year, curly-haired recruit who insisted on prefacing everything she said with "Gwen said you were sort of a tosser, right, but I don't think so."

It wasn't that Romy Vinner was a bad Keeper – James had to admit she was the best he'd seen during try-outs – but she was annoying as hell, with her constant reminders that he'd been rude to her cousin _months_ ago, her penchant for unprecedented hugs, and the fact that she distracted Raiff. James didn't have time to conduct some stupid romance between his Keeper and his Seeker; he needed Raiff focused and he needed Vinner to quit with all the touching. Lily and Marlene had been at the first hour of practice before the storm settled in too heavily, and he knew the touching was grating on Lily's nerves, too. He even had a sneaking suspicion that she'd Confunded Vinner after one particularly long hug; either that, or Romy had suddenly and inexplicably confused her right with her left and allowed the Chasers to score three goals in two minutes. So, yeah, the touching had to stop.

When James entered his dormitory, it was to find it empty except for a lounging Lily Evans, who was reclining on his mattress and frowning at a piece of parchment in her hands. His heart leapt uncomfortably in his chest, wondering if that parchment was a letter about her father... He relaxed when she looked up at him and smiled. She wouldn't be smiling if that parchment was what he'd thought it was.

"Three things," Lily said before James could so much as open his mouth. He lifted an eyebrow, crossed the room, and leaned against the bedpost, waiting for her to continue. Lily sat up and settled herself into a cross-legged sitting position and went on with, "First: You look right _incredible_ all banged up like that."

James grinned in spite of himself as he watched his girlfriend's eyes rove slowly up and down his bruised and battered body. "Should've known you were into that sort of thing, after your crazed Quidditch talk at breakfast."

"Shut it, I wasn't finished." Lily waited to make sure he was paying attention and then continued. "Second: As I doubt that homicide is excusable as Head Girl, I'm about to go to McGonagall and turn in my badge because I am going to _kill_ Vinner if she touches you again."

"That's hot, Evans." James crawled over the mattress towards her, gathering her in his arms and kissing her neck. He loved it when she got worked up like this.

Lily bit back a sigh and tried to hold her ground. "I said three things, Potter. _Three._ Mmmm…" James bit her earlobe and sucked, hard. "You're not allowed to talk 'til I'm finished."

"I'm sorry," James said, clearly fibbing as he traced the line of her ear with his tongue. "You know I'm pants at counting, and to be honest I'm not really looking to _talk_, anyway…"

"Third," Lily said, a little more loudly this time, making James chuckle. She squirmed her way out of his hold and held up the parchment she'd been reading. "Have you seen this? They've been circulating around the castle all day, apparently. I haven't gotten through the whole thing, but…" She held it out for James to take; he did, and realized that it wasn't just a single sheet, but rather a pamphlet emblazoned with emerald-green ink.

"'_The Skeeter Scoop_'?" James lifted an eyebrow. "What is this rubbish?"

Lily waved a hand, inviting him to read on. "It must have been what Dorcas was on about," she said. "Keep going, I want to know what else it says."

"Right, then." James turned back to the pamphlet and read aloud:

**THE SKEETER SCOOP**  
_Researched and Written by Yours, Rita Skeeter_

_After a very public display on the grounds in December of last year, rumors followed Gryffindor heartthrobs James Potter and Lily Evans during their sixth year at Hogwarts. There were whispers of a secret, long-standing love affair, speculation trailing after the two from corridors to Quidditch matches. The relationship was, however, profusely denied for most of term. But upon questioning the fiery redheaded Gryffindor, this reporter uncovered the truth._

"_Nine months," Evans revealed when asked about the length of her relationship with Potter, and we can only wonder what one Amos Diggory would make of that. (Diggory was most unfortunately unavailable for comment, due to the completion of his Hogwarts education and consequent absence from the castle.)_

_Evans and Potter have been public since late March of last year, to varying degrees of jubilation and chagrin from their fellow peers._

"_We all saw it coming," said Marlene McKinnon, a fellow seventh-year Gryffindor. _

"_It was about time," said another, Remus Lupin (who appeared rather shifty during questioning, but he waved off further questions regarding this behavior)._

"_They're sweet together," added Alice Prewett, soon-to-be Longbottom. "How long it's been is sort of irrelevant, isn't it? From a month to a year to a decade, Lily and James are just… Lily and James. Perhaps that doesn't make much sense, but, well, it does to us and it does to them."_

_However, not everyone shares Prewett's or the other Gryffindors' cheery outlook._

"_If you ask me, it's just Potter, determined to besmirch a good pureblood name," commented Narcissa Black, seventh-year Slytherin. "He's always been that rebellious sort, as far as anyone can tell, so it only fits that he'd dally around with a Mudblood."_

James scowled at the word. He hadn't said it out loud; he'd paused and was glaring daggers at the parchment, his blood boiling, his body tensing up until one of Lily's hands slid soothingly over his shoulder.

"It's all right, love," she said softly, kissing his cheek. She moved behind him, settling her legs over his as she continued rubbing his shoulders and back. He was sore from practice and now from nerves, too, and Lily was sure _The Skeeter Scoop_ would only get worse. "That's about as far as I got. Let's see what else there is, yeah?"

"Yeah." James sighed and relaxed into her touch, then steeled himself for the rest of the trash he was sure to encounter.

_But whether you're rejoicing or reviling, it seems that Potter and Evans are a bit preoccupied in broom cupboards to notice. After nine months and several unsuccessful minutes in which this reporter failed to extract a convincing yes-or-no answer from the couple, it appears rather obvious that these Gryffindors are this year's who's who in shagging. _

_But how long will that last?_

_Despite the couple's public displays of affection and their friends' insistence that this is "the real thing," Saturday's Quidditch try-outs may suggest otherwise. You have it from this reporter's keen eye that fifth-year, sultry brunette, and newly appointed Gryffindor Keeper Romy Vinner was rather affectionate with the team captain. _

_Post-try-outs, Vinner gushed, "I'm so happy to be part of the team. James's a real top captain, knows his stuff. He got a bit distracted during the scrimmage and flew off to talk to that girlfriend of his, but all in all I think Gryffindor's got a real chance at the Cup with him in charge."_

"'That girlfriend of his'?" Lily scowled and her fingernails pinched James's shoulders as they dug into his skin. "What is it with that family – first McIntyre, now this. I'm not going to last another week as Head Girl if I've got to keep dealing with Vinner."

"I know, love." James rubbed circles over Lily's calf. He frowned at the parchment, his eyes scanning the rest of that sorry excuse for _news_, he supposed Skeeter would call it. "The rest of this is just more rubbish. Look at this, she goes on to speculate that Remus was 'shifty' because he fancies you like Vinner fancies me. Really, he was probably just uncomfortable with Skeeter, you know how she was talking to us…"

"Yeah." Lily thought Remus's discomfort probably had more to do with Dorcas's presence at the time, but she decided against clueing James in on that just yet. For now, she plucked the parchment from James's hand, tired of it already. "I can't believe I bought that load of waffle she told me. She said she was working on an internship, that little – ugh!" Lily ripped the pamphlet to pieces and let them scatter over the floor. "It's almost enough to make you miss Bertha Jorkins."

"I rather like what Alice said about us, though."

"Well, she could tell us that herself," Lily grumbled. "I could tell you that sort of thing, too, if you'd like. Point is, we don't need Rita Skeeter."

"No, I know. I'm only trying to look on the bright side so I don't upset my Headship by cursing Narcissa Black." James dipped his head back to look at her. "But I would like that, you know, if you told me that sort of thing."

Lily smiled, the green of her eyes dancing and laughing at him a little bit. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, feeling that tug at her heart that begged her to tell him, to let those three little words tumble off the tip of her tongue.

"You do that." James smiled back at her and kissed her chin, settling his head back against her chest as her hands continued rubbing down his arms. "As much as we don't like Skeeter, though, that reminds me… Did you happen to hit Vinner with a Confundus at practice earlier?"

Lily bit the inside of her cheek but shook off the guilt when she remembered that stupid 'sultry brunette' and her comment about 'that girlfriend of his.' Sometimes people just needed to be Confunded, Lily told herself, but she played innocent, anyway, and said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

_Knew it._ James's smiled widened. "You _did_, didn't you?"

"James, please, don't insult me," Lily requested lightly. "I do have some self-control, you know."

"You didn't execute it very well on the pitch tonight, though, did you?" James challenged. Since it hadn't been during a match, it didn't bother him; he just wanted her to admit that she'd been annoyed enough to interfere with Quidditch.

Well, if he really wanted to know, Lily was certainly going to weaken his resolve before she came clean, just in case he was teed off about it. She moved her hands expertly to work at the knots in James's neck, and leaned forward a little to plant kisses over the skin behind his ear, smirking when she felt his body shudder. She was most definitely off the hook.

"You're not cross with me, are you?" she murmured, flicking her tongue over him. She slipped her hands down to his lower back, which arched slightly as she worked her knuckles against his spine. "I just lost my temper a bit, that's all."

"I can hardly be cross with you when you've got your hands all over me, now, can I?" James moaned a little as the bones of Lily's hands dug into the ones at his back. "For the record, you're not allowed to touch me if I ever do get angry with you. That just wouldn't be fair."

"Oh, but it's working so well in my favor…" Lily slid her hands around so her fingers were playing with the ties on James's Quidditch trousers. "Would you rather have a row or would you like me to continue?"

"Hmmm…" One of James's hands reached up to rub the back of Lily's neck, and the other found its way to her roaming fingers. With his hand clutching the back of hers, he guided her over the front of his trousers, bucking his hips a little, the week's agitations culminating in this sudden and insane impatience to have Lily's hands all over every last inch of him. "I'm thinking you should continue."

"I gathered as much, yeah." Lily readily complied with James's insistence. He was frustrated and so was she, they were alone in the dormitory, she'd meant it when she said he looked incredible all banged up after Quidditch practice… There were too many reasons to say yes and absolutely no pressing arguments.

So when James's hand left hers to grip at her free one, Lily didn't stop. She felt his fingers working furiously at the back of her neck, teasing her hair, and she moved her own purposefully over his trousers, feeling the material shift with every second and every stroke. She dipped her head to move her mouth over the slope of his neck; he tasted like dried rain and sweat and the taste made her head spin and her hand and fingers work faster. She bit at his neck and felt his groan reverberate beneath her lips.

"Mmm… Lily…" James sighed her name and lifted their joined hands to his lips. He pressed them against her fingertips, brushing his tongue over her knuckles and running it along her palm. Saying "I love you" for the first time while the girl of your dreams was going at your pants probably wasn't the right moment for such a romantic declaration, was it? No, James decided that it wasn't.

He kept kissing her hand and she kept kissing his neck, his fingers stroking her knuckles and hers rubbing the front of his trousers, tugging at the ties to loosen them. He murmured her name against her skin and she whispered into his, asking what he wanted… "You," he told her, and he flipped over, tugging her down the mattress and trailing kisses over her collarbone. "Just you."

"Good." Lily's left hand curled in his hair while the right one slipped back between their bodies and undid the ties on his Quidditch pants. "Because I just want you, too."

_Lily, I love you._ James didn't care that it was the wrong time – why couldn't he just say it? _I love you, I love you, I love you. Please tell me that you love me, too. _The words played on repeat as he moved his mouth up the column of her throat, nipping at her chin, covering her sighing lips with his.

_I'm in love with you._ Lily wanted to say it, she wanted it to come tripping out of her mouth so she couldn't take it back. _I want you, I need you, I love you, and I couldn't stand it if you didn't feel the same. Please tell me that you feel the same._

Everything was desperate, urgent, begging, from their touches to their sighs to their kisses on mouths, on jawlines and earlobes, necks and shoulders. James's trousers were loose and open, Lily's skirt was hiked up around her hips, and he was thrusting into her without really going anywhere because that, they knew, would be too much, too soon, too fast, too no-going-back. But still they could feel it, that physical pressure building, almost released but not quite there, and they both gritted their teeth against the pleas to just keep going, to take it all the way over the edge, because they knew it was too fast and too soon but they wanted it, anyway – wanted the every last inch of skin-on-skin, wanted the heat and the tingles and the butterflies and the love, wanted the sweat and the sighs and the quick flash of pain and the lasting pleasure of being in love and _doing_ something about it.

James shoved his hand past the material separating them, slipped a finger inside, then two, latching his mouth onto Lily's and swallowing her stream of moans. His breath was labored and hers was short and their chests were hitching, hips rocking, Lily's foot sliding up and down James's leg, her fingers caught in his hair while the others were tangled with his, and his other hand was still working its fingers inside of her. All of their frustrations were seeping out, escaping with every sigh and moan and muttered oath, every murmur of the other's name, and they didn't care about anything but the fact that they were alone, just the two of them. For a little while they could pretend that sort of beautiful loneliness was complete, that it stretched far beyond the seventh-year boys' dormitories in Gryffindor tower in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, tucked between hills and mountains and cliffs, hidden away from anyone who wouldn't really understand what it was doing there.

No, right then it was just Lily and James because that made sense and that was the only thing that made sense, ever, in the history of things making sense, it was just them. And maybe saying _I love you_ was easy and it was right, but that beautiful loneliness was terrifying because they had absolutely everything to lose and no way to put the pieces back together if somehow they managed to find themselves broken.

So instead, they kept their mouths shut off from words and open against each other's, their skin touching wherever it could. They kept their words exclusive to whispers of the other's name, tried to convey that love through touch and movement and pulse and heartbeat and that was all, because that was all that they could spare for tonight. Some other night, they knew, they'd let the words out, they'd let them hang in the air and they'd leave their hearts on their sleeves, ready to be reciprocated or broken, whole or shattered, and some night they'd figure out what they were doing with the rest of their lives.

But right now was not _some night_, because right now seldom is.

* * *

Later that night, Lily lay awake, James's arms wound around her and one of her legs swung over his hip. She toyed with his hair, damp from the shower he'd taken half an hour ago; he'd collapsed back into bed and fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted from his irritations, from Quidditch, from the intensity of him and her. He'd pressed his lips to hers and asked her to stay with him, and she'd kissed him back and asked him where else he thought she was going to go. He'd smiled at her and he'd yawned and he'd closed his eyes, and Lily hadn't seen those swirls of honey-and-green since. She heard his steady breathing, the snores from the other beds since Sirius, Remus, and Peter had all returned to the dorm about an hour ago, but she wasn't really _listening_ to any of it.

_Okay, so you're in love with him,_ Lily thought, trying to rationalize the situation. _Big deal. You can handle this. It's not like you didn't see it coming – you knew it was happening. That's why you tore out that piece of parchment and wrote it down six months ago; it wasn't because you were upset or completely mad, it was because it's true._

_And how could it not be? _Lily's train of thought continued as she ran her fingers through James's hair and he held her tighter in his sleep, burying his face in her shoulder and sighing through his closed lips. _He's smart and fun and he cares so much about things that matter, and he never makes you feel like you don't. He's so dedicated to everything he does – Quidditch, school, he's trying so hard as Head Boy, his friends, you… The way he holds you, it's like he's never going to let go. He looks at you like there's absolutely nothing or no one else around. Of course you're in love with him._

Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes. It was pretty obvious, then, wasn't it? she thought, a little absently now as unconsciousness crept upon her. But if anyone had told her two years ago that she'd end up falling in love with James Potter, well… Lily shook her head, telling herself that she wouldn't have bought it.

Then again… Lily pushed her fingers through that messy head of hair again, felt James's hands on the curve of her waist, felt his breath fluttering over her skin, thought about the way he looked at her and the way he'd always been able to make her laugh, and…

All right, she thought as she closed her eyes and the scent of James's shampoo overcame her. So maybe she would have believed it, after all.

* * *

**11:02 P.M.**

Rita Skeeter sat in the Slytherin common room, tapping her quill against a blank sheet of parchment, thinking of how to draft the next edition of _The Skeeter Scoop_. She was sure the Gryffindors would give her more than enough material to get through the year, but all the same, perhaps she should try for some variety every now and then. Ultimately, though, Rita knew she'd have to wait to see the response from the rest of the student body before she made any final decisions. After all, she had to give the public what they wanted. If they wanted romantic intrigue, that's what they would get. Love triangles? No question about it, they'd get that, too. And if they wanted Potter and Evans, she'd give them Potter and Evans. Whatever the demand, Rita would supply it; it was just plain, good, journalistic sense.

She looked over at Dorcas, who was sitting next to her and staring into the fireplace. Rita had noticed her friend's distraction lately; she had a sort of misty-eyed look about her that was just so un-Dorcas, and Rita was determined to use her sharp skills to figure out what was behind the uncharacteristic change.

"Something on your mind?" she prompted.

"Hmm?" Dorcas looked around, brow furrowed, lips pressed together. She recognized Rita's reporter look – narrowed eyes, one heavy eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other, quill point tapping impatiently against parchment. "No, nothing, really. I was just sort of thinking about the _Scoop_, actually."

"Oh?" Rita brightened. "What do you think of it?"

Dorcas shrugged. She knew Rita was just having a bit of fun, figuring things out and giving it a twist, giving people something fun and fluffy to talk about, but all the same Dorcas wasn't sure if she was all that fond of the idea. But she didn't want to rain on Rita's parade, so she said, "Not bad. I think Narcissa should watch her mouth, though."

Rita waved a hand like it didn't matter. "It adds color, some tension. It's necessary."

"I wouldn't say _necessary_." Dorcas's mouth shifted into a slight frown. "I mean, we can pretend it's all fun and games, Rita, but that sort of attitude is what's got everything so shitty outside Hogwarts. It's not just about _who's who in shagging_, or whatever it is you said."

"Don't be such a killjoy," Rita chastised lightly. "Everyone knows Narcissa's full of it, anyway, because anybody with half a brain could see that it's nothing to do with blood, and Potter and Evans are mad about each other. Everything else just sort of adds a bit of intrigue."

Rita sucked thoughtfully on the end of her quill and continued. "It's clear that Vinner's got some interest in Potter, but like he'd ever reciprocate. He's so wrapped up in Evans that I wonder if he notices at all, but still, you know, it's _interesting_ and that's why I added it."

Dorcas nodded. She knew that Rita never believed half the gossip she spit out; she just knew that other people would, and Rita Skeeter was nothing if not a people-pleaser. "So you don't believe that bit you wrote about Lupin, then?"

"What bit?"

"The bit about him fancying Evans."

"Oh, that. No." Rita shook her head and dropped her quill back on the table. "He's a little shifty, like I said, but then I'm not sure he really knows what to do when a girl talks to him. He gets on fine with Evans, McKinnon, Prewett, but there's no pressure there, right? Put a single bird in front of him and he doesn't know what to do with himself, same goes for Pettigrew."

Rita leaned back in her chair, mulling that over. "I'm sure I could get a story there somehow."

Dorcas fixed her gaze back on the dancing, dwindling flames of the fireplace. She thought about Remus Lupin for another second but shook it off; she didn't know what she was on about, daydreaming like that. So she laughed a little and shook her head at Rita's tirelessness when it came to tracking down a story. "You're absolutely incorrigible, you know that?"

"Yes, I'm aware." Rita was studying her friend again, her sharp senses tuned to what could possibly be on Dorcas's mind. Rita was smart, she was quick, and she took every last little detail into account. No matter how throwaway or inconsequential it seemed, everything got her thinking.

She'd noticed Dorcas's distraction over the past week, and she wondered what had spurred Dorcas just now to ask about Remus Lupin in particular. Rita reached for her quill again and stuck it back into her mouth, chewing on the feathers. Now _that_, she thought, the wheels in her reporter's mind whirring, was surely a story in the making. And if Dorcas's accidental hints were any indication, it seemed that the story was already on its way. All Rita had to do was light the match and let it simmer.

Lucky for her, she'd always had something of a talent for fueling the fire.

* * *

**A/N:**_ In case there's any confusion – no, Lily and James did not have sex just now. I mean, lose the clothes and they would have, but all the same sexy time was cut off before they could, like, deflower each other or whatever. Don't get terribly frustrated with JP/LE and their inability to spit out the dreaded three words. Remember, they're only seventeen and in my rendition of their relationship, everything is rather new to them and they don't want to make any mistakes by going too fast or not thinking things through. Those things are difficult enough to navigate, plus neither of them really know what's too fast, anyway. Just keep that in mind, and it'll all come tumbling off the tips of their tongues soon enough. It is, after all, becoming a bit unmanageable on both sides._

_So what's in store for Chapter 4 (unintentional rhyme there): I realize I've been moving a bit slowly – at least, that's how I feel about it – so expect some action, lycanthropy drama, and Snape's POV. Anything else you'd like to see next chapter or later? Review, message me here or at _**cokebottleglassesarecool**_ on Tumblr, and as my grandfather used to say – "We shall see what we shall see." Ergo, I'll see what I can do about your wishes that will hopefully involve fulfilling them. –K. _


	4. The Prince's Repeat

_I lied in my last A/N. Just a little bit. Lycanthropy drama will be happening NEXT chapter. I've gotten some requests for more of Snape's POV, and I decided that I wanted to devote a chapter to him in order to indulge those aforementioned requests. Besides, I really like to write Jily from that perspective; not because I'm a Snape sadist or anything, really, I just like the narrative effect. _

_THIS IS A TOTALLY SHORT CHAPTER, but I felt that adding more detail would muddy up what I've done here. I think it's very good and I quite like it but then again, I'm running on absolutely no sleep so it might actually be trash. You guys better like it, anyway, though… *glares, then ruins the effect by bursting out in laughter because I can't even take myself seriously*_

_So, yeah, in conclusion: I'm a filthy rotten liar but it was an accident so be quiet and I love you and here you go._

* * *

Severus Snape's life had really taken a turn for the worse.

He should have expected it. From the moment James Potter turned his attention to Lily Evans to the moment that unforgivable word had fallen from Snape's lips, from that first smile he'd seen exchanged between _them _to the rumors that had buzzed around the castle, from that kiss he'd seen in the snow to all the kisses he'd seen since then… From "Mudblood" to "Crucio," really, what had he expected? From one thing to the next, Snape should have known that his life was shit.

He'd been dealing with it for months and he couldn't stand it, it never got any easier. It was impossible to bear, watching them together. Something within him snapped a little more every time he saw them, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could deal with it without doing something, anything, everything to assuage the pain, the regret, the jealousy – for the love of Merlin and Circe and every last deity that had ever existed, the _jealousy_, it ate at him like a rapid and carnivorous disease and he just wanted it to kill him already. Surely death – any death – would be less painful than this.

It wasn't just that Potter was granted all the privileges of Lily Evans, but that certainly would have been bad enough. He had access to everything, every little part of her, and that gnawed at Snape; it tensed his muscles and ground his bones down to an indiscernible dust. Potter touched her like she was _his_, wholly and completely and unquestionably, but what was worse was that _she let him_.

That was what Snape couldn't stand – the fact that this was what Lily wanted. She wanted James Potter. Snape could see it in the way she looked at him, the way her eyes lit up and the corners of her mouth twitched, the way her body responded to Potter's mere presence. It was sickening and wrong and it wasn't supposed to be like this. But it was exactly like that, and it made Snape want to tear his hair out from the pure frustration of it all.

He couldn't help but wonder how wholly and completely Lily belonged to Potter. If they touched in private the way they touched in public, Snape was sure that Lily had given herself up, mind and body and heart and soul, and he couldn't stand it. He watched them together and his hand was in a constant twitch towards his wand as he imagined Potter's hands all over her, his mouth on her skin, exploring every last inch of her that she had never, ever given up to anyone before. He got to touch her, taste her, got to feel her body's response to the ministrations of his lips and fingertips, and _nothing_ had made Snape so angry before.

Snape had never been inclined to believe trivial gossip, but he couldn't completely dismiss Rita Skeeter's speculations, not when Potter and Lily were making it so nauseatingly _obvious_. He knew that most of what Skeeter was spinning was bollocks, but it seemed all too likely that the couple were engaging in the exact broom cupboard activities that _The Skeeter Scoop_ had alluded to.

Of course, Snape had declined to comment on Rita Skeeter's inane "public interest" story. He hadn't felt like giving Potter a reason to come after him, and Lily hated him enough as it was. It wasn't worth it to spill his thoughts to Skeeter; Merlin only knew how she'd twist his words, especially considering how she'd interpreted Lupin's discomfort to mean that he fancied Lily as well. It was all a load of tosh, and it wasn't the sort of thing Snape felt like getting mixed up with. He'd learned last year to keep his thoughts on Lily and Potter to himself. The way Narcissa carried on despite her previous, monumental mistakes, it was like he was stuck with Bellatrix all over again, and Snape didn't fancy having to "prove" himself. He hadn't forgotten the Cruciatus Curse incident, and he was sure that Narcissa wasn't above making him repeat it if he slipped up.

That lingering worry aside, though, Snape was too preoccupied to torture himself over such a possibility. He was obsessed with a relationship that had nothing to do with him, but simultaneously meant everything to him. Snape was loath to admit it, but his whole bullshit existence depended on whether or not Lily and Potter lasted, and he'd soak up every last bit of information that he could get pertaining to that. So when he found himself on the opposite side of a bookshelf from the Marauders one afternoon, he couldn't help but listen in.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said Black's voice from beyond the shelf. "Clearly the who's who in shagging is me and McKinnon. This Skeeter bird is off it."

"I don't fancy Lily, either." That would be Lupin, then, Snape thought. "She's smart and gorgeous and everything, so don't think I'm insulting her, but I reckon a bloke would have to be mad to think he could fancy Lily Evans and get away with it now."

"Yes, I am rather intimidating, aren't I?" drawled the unmistakably arrogant voice of James Potter. Snape could just imagine the stupid, smarmy look on his face, and the image made his hand twitch and his mouth turn into a scowl.

"I was going to say unmanageably jealous," Lupin remarked, "but that works too, I suppose."

"Oh, shove it, Moony."

"Back to more important things…" Black's voice was measured and meaningful. "Since we've touched on the shagging bit, what d'you say, Prongs? Have you?"

Snape's hands curled into fists, his knuckles whitening with the intensity of the motion. If Potter started bragging about her… The fact that they were talking about this at all, it was just as sick and wrong as the possibility that Potter might affirm Black's question… Snape's fingers flexed; if Potter gave him a reason, he was not above casting the first curse.

Potter's laugh drifted past books and through shelves, and he said, "You're a right nosy git, Padfoot. But no, we haven't."

"_What?"_ Black's unbelieving tone was accompanied by a loud _thump_, and Snape imagined that he'd thrown a book in his theatric agitation. Personally, Snape's chest had relaxed a little in relief, but then he remembered that these particular Gryffindors were so fucked in the head, it was no wonder that Black had reacted in such a way. He was probably shocked that for once Potter wasn't getting precisely what he wanted.

"James, are you kidding me?" Black went on, all furious incredulity. "_Shit._ I mean… for the sake of Merlin's left bullock, man –"

"Left?" That was Pettigrew. "What's wrong with his right one, then?"

"Shut up, Wormtail," Black said over the sounds of the others' muffled laughter. "Seriously, James, what's wrong with you? You two've been going out, snogging, doing your Potter and Evans thing, whatever, you've been at it for months and you still haven't gotten into her knickers?"

"Oh, I didn't say _that_," Potter commented lightly, causing Snape to nearly snap his wand in half. "I just haven't shagged her, that's all."

"Well, why the bloody hell not?"

"Because…" There was a pause, but it didn't last long. "Because she's brilliant and lovely and perfect and all I want is to make her feel incredibly beautiful and wanted. And that means no pressuring her. It means not doing anything until she explicitly tells me to."

There were a few gagging noises, and Snape imagined that the others were pretending to be sick at Potter's sentimental declaration. It made Snape feel more than just pretend sick, to know that Lily would tell him yes, she'd do exactly as Potter said in that regard. Snape saw the way she looked at him and it practically screamed of some sick adoration and unparalleled lust and a thousand other things that Snape didn't want to put his finger on.

"So, what," Pettigrew said over a chuckle, "you're just gonna wait 'til she says 'Shag me, James' before you make a move?"

"I'm about to hex you and Padfoot if you keep talking about Lily like she doesn't matter," Potter threatened casually, a hint of steel discernible through the otherwise light statement. "She's not just some shag. She's my girlfriend, the absolute _love of my life_ –"

"Keep your voice down, Head Boy," Lupin chastised. "We're in the library. There's no need to get so thematic about it, look, you almost hit me in the face with that last overly dramatic sweep of your arms…"

"My sympathies, dear Mr. Moony," Potter said, a drip of sarcasm touching his voice. "All right, seriously, then, you lot know how I feel about her. I'm not going to piss her off by constantly badgering her for a tumble. I want to. But it's not like I know what I'm doing, anyway, so to be honest I'm not too fussed about putting it off."

There was a bark of laughter and Snape recognized it as Black's. "What, you think you'll get better by sitting around and waiting?" he asked. "I'll tell you, Prongs, thumb-twiddling isn't exactly the way to hone your shagging skills."

"No, it's not – right, I know it doesn't make sense, what I said, but – she still makes me nervous. It's like fourth year all over again, when I couldn't even talk to her because my lungs forgot how to breathe, that's how she makes me feel. I just… I can't get used to her. So I'm a wreck, basically, and it's putting me off the shagging mood a bit because chances are I'll be lousy at it and I'll tell you, that's a very emasculating thought…"

It was becoming too much for Snape again, sitting there and listening to Potter talk about Lily like she was his. She was and Snape knew it, but after everything he'd been feeling for the past six years, it was so unjust to listen to someone else extol virtues they'd never really appreciate. For all of Potter's talk about how flawless Lily was, Snape was convinced that he could love her better. He'd certainly loved her longer, and comparing his feelings with Potter's was a stretch, too, since Snape was sure that the other's hormonal tendencies could hardly be called love at all. Regardless, the fact that whatever Potter felt was reciprocated, when it was Snape who had earned that reciprocation and been denied it… It was wrong, so terribly and fantastically _wrong_, because this was not how things were supposed to happen. But it was happening, anyway, and Snape wished that the feeling would just kill him already.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if he just had someone to _talk_ to, but Snape had lost the only person he could really talk to and, anyway, he never would have been able to talk to Lily about how he felt. At least, he didn't think so; he didn't know anymore, and it was too late to find out. He couldn't bring any of it up to his fellow Slytherins – Avery, Mulciber, Narcissa, Regulus, the Carrows… Snape shook his head every time he thought about it. He couldn't even entertain the idea. It was true that both Avery and Mulciber had remarked upon Lily's physicality; they were crudely appreciative, but that amounted to nothing in terms of real feelings. They still objectified her, belittled her, and no one could mistake that for something deep and meaningful and real. Snape hated the way they talked about her, and it had gotten steadily worse since Skeeter's article had come out.

"Wouldn't be surprised if Lupin did want in her skirt," Mulciber had said just the other day. "I wouldn't mind getting between her legs myself."

"That's disgusting," Narcissa had snapped. "Messing around with a Mudblood like that…"

"Nobody said they wanted to marry her or anything like that," Avery had pointed out. "Get in, get out, that's all."

That conversation was just another thing that made Snape nauseous.

He had enough to worry about as it was, too. Snape knew that the war and his role in it should be more important than whatever Lily Evans was doing with her life, but somehow it wasn't. Maybe it was because he was stuck in the castle, but the war felt so far away whenever Snape saw yet another public display of affection. He'd run into far more of those than the deaths and disappearances that were reported daily in the _Prophet_. For every Dark Mark and arrest and Imperius Curse, Snape had turned the wrong corner or happened upon the wrong empty classroom.

He recalled one evening in particular, and it was the one memory he couldn't shake, the one that stood out vividly against the blurred backdrop of all the others. It had been later in the evening, during patrol time, and Snape was making his way to the Slytherin common room from the library. He'd been walking, thinking about nothing in particular, when he set one foot around the corner and immediately slunk back into the shadows at the sight of Lily and Potter, halfway down the corridor that Snape had been about to travel.

Lily was walking a few steps ahead of Potter, her dark red hair catching the torchlight as she shook her head, her laughter echoing over the stone walls. Something in Snape ached at the sound. Potter was catching up to her quickened pace, and Snape strained his ears to hear what he was saying…

"– think McGonagall's going to get suspicious if you keep scheduling patrols this way." Potter's voice reverberated a bit like Lily's laugh. "We're not exactly _subtle_, Evans. I bet she knows we snog more than we bust other people snogging."

"You could take a turn at scheduling patrols, then," Lily said. "Next weekend, yeah, why don't you pair me up with Fenwick? He's a good-looking bloke, I wouldn't mind spending an hour or two with him –"

"Not funny." Potter had fallen into step beside her, his hand on her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. Snape only just saw the playful smirk on Lily's mouth before Potter caught her face in his hands and kissed her.

Snape had seen this sort of thing between them before – in fact, he'd seen worse – but it never failed to shock him when Lily didn't push Potter away and hit him or hex him or swear at him. He still expected her to hate that fat-headed, sad excuse for a pureblood, and he couldn't acclimate himself to the fact that she didn't and maybe she never had.

He watched as Lily hopped up, wrapping her legs around Potter's waist, watched as Potter's hands moved to grip the back of her thighs, still kissing, Lily's fingers threading through that stupid mess of hair, and Potter somehow managed to get them to a door, kicking it open and disappearing behind it. The door slammed back into its frame and Snape hurried down the corridor, wanting to get as far away from that dimly lit stretch of stone floor as quickly as possible. He tried not to listen as he moved past that closed door, but his ears betrayed him and his feet stopped moving. He hovered. He heard Lily's laugh again, mingling with Potter's; he heard a slam and a thud and a moan; he heard Lily's voice sigh Potter's name, over and over and over again…

"_James… James… James…"_

That lingering, echoing mantra – repeated like a prayer – it haunted him.

After everything Snape had seen and done – the torturing, the murder, all of it – no matter how dark his deeds, nothing had ever made him feel this way. Hearing Lily say _James James James_ so tenderly, so loving and content, like she wanted nothing more than for Potter to keep doing whatever it was he was doing to her – Snape shuddered to think of what that was specifically, but the response it elicited from Lily had cut Snape straight to the bone. His heart stopped, and he didn't much care if it ever or never started up again.

He did not want Lily Evans to be happy with James Potter. That wasn't supposed to happen but it was happening, anyway, and nothing Snape thought or said or did could reconcile him to that fact.

So he'd keep his thoughts to himself, he wouldn't say a word, and between the library and that empty classroom, Snape decided that whatever he did, he would make sure that it hurt Lily every bit as much as she'd hurt him. He'd shatter her heart and leave Potter with the pieces, and maybe then they'd see if that arrogant toerag stuck around to put them back together. Then they'd see how often she sighed his name.

* * *

**A/N:** _In case I've given anyone the wrong idea with those last couple of sentences… No, James and Lily aren't going to go through a break-up stage, nor is that Snape's intention. He just wants to cut Lily down to the point where James can't fix it and then Lily will see the error of her ways or whatever. Anyway, considering I disregarded canon for these bitches, they're gonna stay that way. No break-ups. I don't have time for that drama._

_See you for _Chapter 5: The Adventures of Evans and Moony_._

_;D –K. _


	5. The Adventures of Evans and Moony

_You guys, thank you SO MUCH for your reviews on the last chapter. You always give me great stuff, but they were like flooding in quick succession and I was like, cool, they liked my Snape POV as much as I did. That was… yeah, it was cool. Many enthusiastic thumbs-up._

_One reviewer asked if this installment of the trilogy will be as long as "All Right, Evans?" and, while I've got things planned, I can't say for sure how many chapters it'll be just yet. I think it's safe to say that the third and final installment will be the longest, but that's about all I know for now. I will, of course, keep you posted, because of all the love I feel for you and stuff and we should have an open, communicative relationship. I will let you know, and I will continue posting teasers on my Tumblr page at _**cokebottleglaassesarecool**_ because I like to do that._

* * *

**Sunday**

It was the morning after a particularly rough full moon. Of course, the full moon was always rough on Remus, but sometimes the other Marauders got a little rambunctious during their forest wanderings and they wound up even more banged up than Remus did. This time it had been James who had taken the brunt of physical injuries; after the last couple of weeks and all those lingering frustrations, he'd gone overboard in his attempt to blow off steam. So he was to be found the next morning, lying on his stomach, winching at the pain in his back.

"Quit whining," Sirius said as James released another pathetic little whimper. "It's your own fault. You ran right at the Whomping Willow, not a care in the world –"

"Shut up, Padfoot," James growled into his pillow. "I hate that fucking tree. My back is a mess."

"Keep moaning about it and I'm going to make you into a nice venison dinner."

Remus shot Sirius a look of reproach before his eyes settled back on James and he said, "Why don't you go to the hospital wing?"

"Meh." James shrugged as much as he could without causing himself too much pain. It hurt, sure, James thought, and he was very likely going to whine about it for the rest of the day. But he certainly wasn't going to go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey would ask too many questions and she'd probably make him stay, claiming that he needed _rest_, and James hated hanging around the hospital wing when he could just as easily rest in his own dormitory.

Just then the door to that dormitory swung open and out of the corner of his eye, James saw Lily striding towards his bed, still in her nightclothes, looking sleepy and annoyed.

"Morning, Evans," Sirius greeted her jovially. "You look like hell."

Lily tossed him a dirty look as she settled next to James, who wound an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. He rested his head in her lap and his teeth tugged playfully at the material of her sleep shorts.

"I was up half the night with Marlene," she said, mostly to Sirius. "Apparently, _someone_ told her that he had a soft spot for blondes so she wanted to _surprise_ him. She was bound and determined to do something about her hair. She failed fantastically, by the way, and that left me up at all hours mixing a potion to fix it."

Sirius and Peter laughed heartily at that. "Oh, I was just kidding around with her!" the former said.

"You're a complete arse, Sirius," Lily informed him. She yawned and ran her fingers through James's sleep-mussed and eternally untidy hair. "I'm going to tell Mar to ditch you and go out with Remus instead."

"I'll pass," Remus said dully from where he lay on his mattress. He tried to avoid the image of Dorcas Meadowes that flashed across his mind's eye, but it seemed that his brain had other plans. "Marlene's brilliant, but she scares the hell out of me."

The others laughed some more, James's chuckle lost against Lily's legs. He nuzzled into her lap, reveling in her warmth; his bed always felt so empty without her in it. Lily leaned back against the headboard, content to sit like that for hours if she had the chance. Her hand continued its ministrations through James's hair and along his neck, across his shoulders, down his back…

James whimpered loudly at the pressure. Lily looked down at him, concerned, not noticing the significant and rather dark looks the other boys exchanged.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked, her eyes completely absorbed in James. "Are you hurt or something?"

"No," James said, but the pain in his voice was obvious. _Shit shit shit._ "I'm all right. It's nothing."

But Lily wasn't buying it. Not only was James doing an unconvincing job at lying, but there was a splotch of red seeping its way through the white of his T-shirt now. In his current state, James wasn't quick enough to stop Lily from scooting down to his side and pushing his shirt up to reveal a long, diagonal cut that spanned from his left shoulder down to his right hip.

"Oh, damn," she muttered as little beads of blood surfaced from the injury. "James, what happened?"

"Nothing, it's –"

"_Nothing?"_ Lily was beyond incredulous. "There's a gash all along your back, that's not _nothing_. You need to go to the hospital wing."

"Lily, I'm _fine_." James struggled into a sitting position, determined to do whatever he had to to pacify Lily, to get that look off her face. He pulled the T-shirt over his head to avoid irritating the cut further. "Remus, toss me the dittany, will you?"

Remus reached over to his bedside table for the dittany and threw it to James, who caught it and handed it to Lily.

"D'you mind?" he asked, a little bit of plea in his eyes. He didn't want her to be angry with him – it was impossible to deal with having Lily Evans be angry with him. "I can't reach."

Lily took the medicine from him wordlessly, her lips pressed together in annoyance, but she'd take care of that as soon as the cut looked a little less menacing. She could feel herself edging towards anger, but she wanted to make sure James wasn't in any pain when she started shouting or throwing things at him. That was only fair. So she unscrewed the top of the bottle and dribbled dittany over James's back; it sizzled and steamed a bit, and there was a sharp intake of breath from James, but otherwise it wasn't terrible. Lily rubbed the medicine in, keeping her touch light to avoid hurting him more. She would have quite liked to give him a swift smack across the injury, but she knew that – more than shouting or throwing things – would be drastically uncalled for.

When she was finished, she capped the dittany and placed it on James's bedside table. She leaned back on her heels and regarded him shrewdly as she repeated her question from a few minutes ago. "What happened?"

James couldn't meet her eye when he lied to her again. "It's nothing."

Lily continued to study him, arms crossed and lips pursed, giving him enough time to take back that horrendous lie and just tell her what he'd gotten himself into to sustain such a nasty gash. But James didn't say anything; he sat, fiddling with his hands, not looking at her, and it was this last thing that really snapped her resolve. If he couldn't even do her the courtesy of meeting her eye, then he must have done something to be ashamed of.

"Fine," Lily said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled around the dormitory. She swung her legs off the bed and stood. "Don't tell me. I'll see you later."

The absence of her weight on his bed and the tone of her voice made James look up in time to see her crossing the room. A little bit of panic shot down into his gut. "Lily, wait –"

"I said I'll see you later, James," Lily repeated firmly, not looking back. The door swung shut behind her and the sound of the wood hitting its frame was somehow more painful than the throbbing in James's back. He knew he'd asked for this, overreacting when she'd touched him, obviously lying, being so poorly evasive… He was an idiot.

James groaned and buried his face in his hands. "What am I going to do?"

Sirius shrugged. He'd felt the awkwardness – you couldn't even have cut the tension with a knife – but he wasn't nearly as worried about the consequences as James was.

"Make something up," he suggested. "Tell her you got on the wrong side of a Slytherin."

"And I let whoever it was go off scot-free?" James dropped his hands and shook his head. "I can't lie to her. Didn't pan out for me too well just now, anyway."

"Maybe she'll forget about it," Peter said, mirroring Sirius's disconcerted shrug.

James snorted. There was no way that Lily was going to just mentally sidestep her frustration or anger or whatever it was. "Yeah, right, Wormtail."

"Well, maybe she'll just let it go, at the very least," Peter tried next.

"Maybe…" James sighed heavily and pushed a hand through his hair.

The boys fell back into their silence for another minute or so, and James allowed that silence to gnaw at him as he tried to think of something, _anything_, he could do to make sure Lily never looked at him like that again. She'd looked so disappointed, betrayed, angry, impatient, but most of all hurt, hurt that he was so clearly lying to her about something that seemed important… He knew he'd made her feel terrible.

Then, before the silence could get to be too much, Remus spoke up: "I'll tell her."

James whipped his head around to look at his friend. "What?"

"You heard me." Remus straightened a little, trying to perpetuate some sort of fearlessness in the face of letting another person in on his secret. "I'll tell her about me. You lot are on your own telling her about you, but unregistered Animagi aren't such a big deal compared to a werewolf, anyway."

There was another bout of silence, lasting for about thirty shocked seconds, and then James said, "Remus, you don't have to do that."

"I do, though," Remus disagreed with a shake of his head. He'd seen that look on Lily's face too, and his furry little problem wasn't worth doing that to her, and he told James as much. "Prongs, lying to her about this, it's not worth the two of you fighting. Besides, I trust Lily, I care about her, and I think – I think she'll be okay with this. Don't you?"

The others noticed the hint of nervousness in Remus's voice, that old trace of doubt that anyone would be okay with the burden of who he was. They'd all agreed a long time ago that Remus Lupin was much too good a person to deserve feeling rotten about what happened to him once a month. They all silently agreed then that there was no way that Lily Evans would be any different.

"Of course she'll be okay," Peter said.

"It's _Lily_, isn't it?" Sirius added, as if that explained everything.

James nodded along with them, but his eyes were on Remus as he said, "I just don't want you to do this if you don't really want to."

"I want to." Remus's voice was surer then. "It's about time, really. She's – well, she's been one of us for awhile now, hasn't she? She deserves to know."

James nodded some more. He saw the determination in Remus's eyes and knew his friend would do whatever he'd set his mind to. And as long as that's what he really wanted, well, James certainly wasn't going to stop him. Even though he wasn't too jazzed about telling Lily that he was an illegal Animagus, it was more important for Remus to be okay with himself, and James knew that letting Lily in on the secret would help. She was better with words and thoughts and feelings than any of the other Marauders ever had been. It would be good for Remus, James thought, and he tried to ignore the selfish part that reminded him that it would be good for him, too, if it meant that Lily wouldn't give him that look ever again.

* * *

Lily was laying under the beech tree near the lake, staring up into the sun-drenched foliage, the leaves rustling a little in the cool September breeze. She'd relaxed a bit over the past hour, although she was still tired and aggravated and something else that she couldn't quite place but she was sure it was James's fault, anyway. He was hurt and he wouldn't tell her why and there was _nothing_ that was okay about that.

Lily shut her eyes with an irritated sigh. She needed to cool off, to let the tension dissipate, and then maybe she'd be ready to interact with people and deal with James the only way she knew how when he was like this. She only hoped he didn't have the foresight to hide his shoes or whatever else she could implement as projectile weapons.

Whether or not she was able to deal with anyone, though, turned out not to matter. Lily heard approaching footsteps, felt someone settle onto the grass beside her, and she steeled herself to deal before she was ready. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see Remus surveying her with a sad little smile on his face.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"No." Lily shook her head. She sat up and leaned back against the trunk of the beech tree. "I was just stewing in some James-induced feelings, that's all, trying to decide if I'm angry or annoyed or… what."

"Right." Remus shifted a little on the grass. He'd meant everything he'd said to the boys an hour ago – he trusted Lily and he knew that, deep down, there was absolutely no way she'd turn away from him when he divulged his secret. But somehow that didn't make it any easier. "That's sort of what I came out here to talk to you about, actually."

"Find me on that creepy map of yours, did you?" Lily surmised, offering Remus a smile. After all, _he_ wasn't the one she was ticked off with.

Some of the tension left Remus's body as he chuckled. "It didn't seem like such a bad idea when we were coming up with it," he said. "We prefer to think of it as _useful_, anyway."

Lily nodded and looked back across the lake, thinking of how that map had saved her skin last year when Snape turned his wand on her. "Yeah, I s'pose I can't argue with that."

They were quiet for a moment, both reminiscing about the same unpleasant (to put it lightly) thing, and then Remus spoke again.

"Lily, I –" he shifted again – "there's something about me that I don't like, that I_ really don't like_, and I hid it for a long time. I'm awful at hiding things by myself like that. So they – James, Sirius, Peter – figured it out, and… Well, you know them." Remus shrugged. "They came at me with it, point-blank, made me spit it out, and after that they've been in it with me ever since."

Lily had turned her attention back to Remus, brow furrowed as she listened to him struggle with words that didn't make much sense to her. She knew that Remus was generally more reserved than the others, definitely more mature and level-headed, a little difficult when it came to talking about important things, but she'd never seen him so uncomfortable before. He was almost panicked, really, so Lily thought this must be a _very_ important thing. She wasn't sure what it had to do with her argument with James, but it must be relevant; after all, Remus Lupin always meant the things he said, and he always made them count.

"I know you're mad at James right now," Remus went on, "and I can't blame you. But I need you to know, Lily, that he only lied because of me. He was doing it for me and I know it kills him to keep things from you, but he promised me a long time ago that he wouldn't tell, and James keeps his promises, even if that means he'll come off like a great big prat."

"Okay." Lily was a bit concerned about Remus now. He was babbling and twisting his fingers obsessively, and his eyes kept darting from her face to the lake to his hands, like he couldn't decide what was safest to look at. She reached over and placed a hand over his twitchy ones. "Remus, relax. You know you can tell me anything. It's okay."

Remus met her eye then, gray to green, and his heartbeat calmed down, settling back into a steady rhythm. He took a breath and said, "This is really important. And I have to tell you first, that if it changes anything, if you don't want to be around me anymore, I'd understand –"

"Remus, _stop_." Lily tried to keep her laughter in, but the idea that she'd ever write him off was just too absurd. She'd known him for years and there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, she'd always liked him, and now she was in love with one of his best friends, so no matter what she wasn't going anywhere. Even if James was a great big prat and Remus's secret was as big a deal as he was making it out to be, Lily reckoned she was stuck with all of them, anyway. "Just tell me."

Remus took another breath and closed his eyes. _You can do this_, he told himself. _You want to do this, it was your idea. It's going to be fine. It's Lily. Your friends haven't gone anywhere, and she's made up of all the best parts of them, she certainly won't abandon you, either. Go on, just spit it out, you have to now…_

"Lily, I'm a werewolf."

There was more silence; Remus wondered how much silence could fit into one day. Lily's hand stayed clasped over his. She hadn't screamed or pulled away, she hadn't left. She hadn't said anything yet, sure, but that was better than anything else that could have happened. Remus opened his eyes to see Lily regarding him with a most curious expression.

"Really?" she said when she saw that he was looking at her again. "So then… Huh."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Huh?" he repeated. "That's all you've got to say? You find out one of your mates is a werewolf and all you've got is _huh_?"

Lily laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to put it all together. It's _weird_, that's all, because Snape was on about that for years, and –"

"Snape knows, actually." Remus frowned. "It's – that was a big mess, that was. Long story short, Sirius was being an idiot and he told Snape where to find me during my transformation, and that's that, really. I probably would have killed him, mauled him, bitten him, something, but James managed to get to him before I could."

"Wait – what?" Lily blinked a few times, confused again. "Are you telling me that James Potter went after Severus Snape, all to save his life?"

Remus offered her a wry smile. "Mad, isn't it?"

"I'll say."

They were quiet again. They heard the wind rustling in the trees, the gentle lapping of the lake's waves onto the shore, a few bird calls, a little bit of song, and then Lily broke the natural sound with her voice and said, "_Moony_. That makes sense now."

Remus laughed. "Yeah, I imagine it does. As for Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, though, you'll have to ask them. I told them I wasn't touching that."

"What about James's back, then?" Lily asked, still determined to find out what had happened to him. "How did he do that?"

"You know the Whomping Willow?" Remus said, and Lily nodded. Everybody knew about that damnable tree. "There's a knot on the trunk that you can hit; it stills the Willow so it won't decapitate you or whatever else. There's a path under there that leads to the Shrieking Shack, which, incidentally, isn't haunted. That's all me, thank you very much, terrifying the villagers since 1971."

Lily laughed again and Remus joined her. It was nice, he thought, to be able to laugh about it a little bit sometimes. It was terrible and he couldn't do anything about it and most of the time it was nothing but a burden on his self-esteem, but for just a moment it was okay that it made him smile. It wasn't so much the lycanthropy that was funny, but it was such a relief to not have to hide it from yet another person who was close to him. It had always been a relief to have people who were so willing to harbor his secret with him, to take the disease and twist it so it was just his "furry little problem" and nothing else. He knew it was bigger than that – they all did, to some extent – but it was a good thing to pretend sometimes that it didn't hurt so much.

They talked about it a little more, Lily putting the pieces together, figuring out that that's what McGonagall had meant when the five of them had eavesdropped in the Three Broomsticks last year. Remus's usefulness to Dumbledore was very likely in reference to the werewolf community. Snape had sought him out for Voldemort. Just as Remus was to blame for the Whomping Willow, Fenrir Greyback was to blame for his disease in the first place. That's what the Marauders were up to once a month when they were out at all hours of the night (even though Remus still wouldn't tell Lily how the others managed to accompany him in his wolf state, she at least knew that they did).

After awhile, the pair trailed off into companionable silence. It was much better than the tense and awkward ones that had occupied most of the morning. Remus was relaxed, and for the moment Lily's annoyance had ebbed; she was sure that it would come back in force when she confronted James later, because she still couldn't help but be a little sore with him. But for now things were all right, and Lily's mind began to wander to other Remus-centric things. She'd wanted to talk to him about those things – or rather, that person, that _girl_ – for awhile, but she hadn't wanted to push or make him uncomfortable. Now, though, Lily couldn't help herself.

"Hey, Remus?"

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

"You've got a thing for Dorcas, don't you?" Lily grinned when she saw a faint pink tinge cross Remus's face. She nudged him with her elbow. "Fancy her a little bit?"

"I – I don't know." Remus had looked away out of unexpected embarrassment. "I haven't even talked to her. Ever. So."

"What's that matter?" Lily said, a bit incredulous. "James said he fancied me fourth year, and he hardly talked to me at all then. What's talking got to do with any of it?"

Remus shifted in his seat again; this was much worse, he thought, much much much worse than talking about his lycanthropy. The transformation really _was_ just a furry little problem compared to this… this Dorcas Meadowes thing.

"It just… it does," Remus said, tongue tripping over words that had started as thoughts he couldn't articulate. Self-frustration was building in his gut. "I don't know. It doesn't matter. I can't do anything about it."

"What? Why not?" Lily was confused for what felt like the hundredth time that day. There was virtually no reason that she could think of why Remus shouldn't take a shot at Dorcas. "She hasn't got a boyfriend, has she?"

"Lily," Remus sighed and looked at her again, "haven't you been paying attention? I'm a werewolf."

_Oh, bloody hell…_ Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That certainly wasn't a reason to avoid talking to a pretty girl, a girl Remus had been staring at for the past two weeks, at least.

"Yeah, once a month!" Lily said, forced to agree with Remus's statement even if she couldn't place the relevance. "Every other day you're Remus Lupin, that's the important thing. I mean, come on, saying you can't go out with someone because you're a werewolf is like me saying I can't do magic because I'm a Muggle-born. Sure, it's part of who we are, but it matters so much less than everything else about us."

"You're still a witch, though," Remus said, wondering if Lily really grasped the significance of his hesitation. "You're smart and talented and James doesn't care about your blood status because he's _James_ and it doesn't matter because it's _you_."

But Lily wasn't backing down. She pointed an almost accusatory finger at him and countered, determined to make him understand that Remus Lupin was much more than he gave himself credit for. "And you're still you. You're smart and talented, you're sweet and loyal and easy to talk to. You're so selfless that it's ridiculous because it's inhibiting your own happiness. Remus, whoever you fancy would be lucky."

The tinge on Remus's face was a full-blown blush now, one to rival the color of Lily's crimson hair. He wanted her to be right, he wanted to be more than who he thought he was, and he wanted to be happy, but he just couldn't shake that one thing that made him so inherently _un_happy.

"Lily, I can't," he said, almost desperate over how big of an inconsolable mess this was. "Even if I could, I think Peter fancies her, too, and I'd never compete with anyone like that, especially with one of my mates. I don't even know Dorcas, so I wouldn't jeopardize a friendship for her."

"See, there's that selflessness I was talking about." Lily sighed and shook her head, wishing that Remus could just be a little bit selfish, if it meant him being happy. But then, she supposed that the potential issue that Peter might fancy Dorcas too was heavy on Remus's conscience.

"Lily?"

"Hmm?"

"I do. Fancy her, I mean." Remus was relieved to say it out loud even though he couldn't see the point of the whole thing. "I think I do. But it's rubbish no matter what, because I don't even know her."

"So _get_ to know her," Lily said, thinking that would be the obvious thing to do. James hadn't known her, either, but that had never stopped him from being an idiot. And Lily was quite sure that Remus couldn't be an idiot if he consciously attempted it.

"How?"

Lily shrugged. "Tell her you think she's pretty and ask if she'd fancy a shag."

"You sound like Marlene," Remus observed on a shaky laugh. He liked Marlene but he hadn't been lying earlier when he said she scared the hell out of him sometimes; she was very intense and Remus wasn't sure that the Marlene McKinnon mentality would work in his favor right now.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes," Lily said apologetically. "But you're right, I'm sorry. Anyway, Dorcas is by herself a lot of the time, isn't she? I dunno that she hangs 'round anyone except Skeeter. So just walk up to her one day when she's alone, strike up a conversation."

"What – er – what would I say?" _Blimey, Lupin, you're completely hopeless, aren't you?_ (Lily thought so, too, but she found it charming rather than detrimental the way Remus did.)

"It depends," she told him, her mind flicking through different scenarios in which Remus could make his move. "Say she's in the library. Ask her what she's doing or reading, ask her how she likes it, that sort of thing."

Remus started twisting his fingers together again as he thought about how that could work out, and none of his imaginings worked out in his favor. "I don't want to interrupt her when she's doing her homework, though."

Lily thought about that, thought about how to get Remus to understand that things weren't ever perfect or ideal but sometimes you had to take the risk, anyway, to get what you wanted or needed. She landed on a memory that she'd kept to herself for a long time, one that she swore she'd take to her grave, but she could break that promise for Remus.

"I'm going to tell you something," she said, "about the time I realized that I fancied James. It'll make sense when I'm finished, I think. Are you listening?"

Remus nodded.

"Okay. It was fifth year, right after the holidays," Lily began, mulling it over like she had so many times before. "We were getting off the train at Hogsmeade and I was by myself. Alice was off with her brothers and that was 'round the time Mar was chasing after Benjy Fenwick so she was busy, too.

"Anyway, right, so I was by myself," Lily said again, realizing she was off-topic because the butterflies at the reminiscence had distracted her. "It was freezing and icy and snowing like mad. So naturally, per the notorious grace and poise of Lily Evans, I slipped; I would've cracked my skull on the pavement, but then…" She smiled, despite her lingering annoyance with the boy she was thinking about. "Well, James caught me around the waist. I looked upside-down and he was right there, grinning at me, snow stuck in his hair and on his hat and he was all, 'All right, Evans?' and I just sort of…"

Lily twirled her hand in the air, trying to come up with the right word, and then she laughed. "I melted. Right there, feet slipping, his arms around me, all freezing and upside-down and completely not expecting to feel that way."

Remus was nodding, recalling the story that James had recounted many times before. "I remember that," he said. "James went on for ages about how he got to touch you. Then he asked you out and you stomped on his foot, yeah?"

"Well, yeah," Lily admitted as Remus chuckled, "but you can't blame me; I had an image to uphold! Besides, once I'd quit melting and he was all, 'I just saved your skin, how about a snog'? he deserved a good stomping."

Remus kept laughing and so did Lily, but she managed to keep talking, too. "See what I mean, though?" she went on. "That was completely imperfect and unprecedented but I fell for him, anyway. It took awhile for him to grow up and for me to be good with it, but our circumstances weren't the same as this thing you've got for Dorcas. No matter what, though, there's never going to be the right time. You've just got to do it, anyway."

Lily tried to ignore the little voice that piped up in her head then, reminding her that she was in love with James now, reminding her of all the excuses she kept giving herself to not say it out loud… _Maybe take your own advice, eh, Evans?_

"You're right," Remus said, breaking through that little voice in Lily's head, "I suppose. I mean, at least Dorcas has never hexed me."

"Right." Lily gave him a comforting rub over his shoulder. "If James can get through our fifth year in one piece, you can talk to Dorcas Meadowes."

Remus nodded but that twinge of nerves wasn't going anywhere. "I still don't think it's a good idea."

"Well, no," Lily agreed, knowing that it didn't really matter. She sighed and put her arm around Remus's shoulders fully, wondering what the pair of them had gotten themselves into. "It never is."

* * *

Crouched outside the boys' dormitory door, Remus, Sirius, and Peter all had their ears pressed against the wooden surface, vying to catch every word of the argument taking place beyond. Not that it would have been terribly difficult to discern all those words, since they were being shouted so vehemently that the three Marauders worried the rest of Gryffindor tower would hear them as well.

"Tell me!" Lily's voice yelled, accompanied by a series of _thump_s.

"Evans –" There was the distinct sound of something hard making contact, and James made a soft but definite _oomph_ noise. "Stop throwing things at me!"

Outside the dorm, Sirius tried not to laugh too hard at his best mate's misfortune, Peter had his brow furrowed in concentration and worry, and Remus was torn somewhere in the middle of all that.

"Tell me right now or I'm breaking up with you," Lily threatened.

"You will not," James said, and the rest of them agreed that he was right.

"Tell me or you'll die a virgin," Lily tried.

"I don't believe you," James said, but the rest of them weren't so sure of his rightness this time.

"Don't test me."

There was a pause. The Marauders who weren't being verbally and physically attacked by the resident Head Girl exchanged looks, unsure of whether they should laugh or not. It was difficult to tell how serious the row was; it had been going on for a quarter of an hour at least, and neither side seemed to be relenting.

The silence was broken by James's suddenly weak voice. "You're going to be mad."

Despite James's nearly defeated tone, Lily wasn't yielding. "I'm mad _now_!"

"All right – _all right_, you can put the drawer back, don't you even _think_ about throwing that at me," James said, a little bit of gusto returning in the face of being attacked by his own furniture. His friends dissolved into silent fits of hilarity at that, but they still managed to catch the rush of words spilling from James's mouth. They were hurried and jumbled but clear enough for them to hear. "We're – me, Sirius, Peter – we may or may not be but definitely are unregistered Animagi."

There was another pause, maybe a heartbeat and a half, and then Lily was shouting again.

"You're _WHAT_?"

"EVANS, WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT PUTTING THE DRAWER BACK?"

Sirius was still laughing as he shot Remus a sideways look. "So much for unregistered Animagi not being 'such a big deal.'"

Peter was chewing nervously on a fingernail and still managing a chuckle every now and then. "Should we do something?"

"No way, this is priceless…"

James had regained his stride and he was yelling right back at Lily. "I knew you'd be mad!"

"Of course I'm mad!" There was another sound of something being thrown, and the Marauders expected that they'd find their room in a state of complete disarray by the time they were allowed back inside. "Do you have any idea how illegal that is? How thick are you, exactly?"

"Well, love, perhaps you should come over here and tell me yourself –"

"Ooh." Sirius sucked in a breath and pulled a face. "Bad move, Prongs."

Although she hadn't heard what Sirius said, Lily seemed to agree nonetheless, because it sounded like James was being ambushed by his own belongings again. "Ouch – ow, damn it to hell, _fuck_ – I'm sorry! Stop – Lily, _stop_, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that –"

"I am going to kill you. You hear me?" Lily demanded, and the rest of them were quite sure that _plenty_ of people could hear her. "You big, stupid, idiot boy, what is the _matter_ with you? You know you could get thrown in Azkaban for that?"

"Only if we got caught –"

"JAMES POTTER."

"LILY EVANS." James met her for both volume and intensity, effectively silencing her long enough so he could say his piece. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before and that you're mad and that you're trying to kill me, but I'm _not_ sorry that I did it! Remus needed our help. He's our mate and he needed us and I wouldn't change it if I could! It was stupid and dangerous and it's always going to be illegal, but _I'm not sorry for it_."

There was silence again, a sniffle, and then Lily's voice was back to normal – albeit rather shaky – as she said, "You could have really messed that up, you know that?"

"I do. I know."

The others exchanged another look, surprised at the tenderness they heard in their old friend's voice. They knew that James regarded Lily with the greatest comfort and care when necessary, but they'd never been direct witnesses to it before. Sirius had seen Lily cry last year when she and James had their two-week falling-out, and they'd all seen the dire effect it had had on James, but there was something different about their interaction this time. It was intimate, private, and the three Marauders felt suddenly and terribly intrusive.

Inside the dormitory, James's shoes and pillows and some of his books were strewn about, all proving evidence to Lily Evans's resourcefulness when it came to the projectile weaponry she'd fantasized about earlier. They were standing about a foot apart. There was a red mark on James's cheek where a shoe had made contact, and Lily was trying very hard not to cry.

"You could have _died_," Lily said, unable to stem the flow of panic, despite the fact that James was alive and well right in front of her. "What would I do then, huh? If you died because you're such a great big idiot and you left me here by myself like this?"

"Lily…" James took a few tentative steps towards her and when she didn't step back, he closed the distance between them and gathered her in his arms. He felt her body shudder. "Lily, we managed it by fifth year. We're fine now, everything's fine –"

"But what if it _hadn't_ been fine?" Lily said, her voice muffled by James's shirt. "This is incredibly selfish, I know that, but now – now that –"

She struggled with the words and took a breath. She didn't want to tell him she loved him like this, when she was a mess and really they were supposed to be talking about what James and the others had done for Remus. Lily thought she was being quite selfish enough for one day, no matter what she'd told Remus earlier about there never being a right time. Certainly there was a _better_ time, at least.

"James, I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you, all right," Lily went on, letting a few tears creep their way out of her eyes, "so thinking that you could have wound up dead just because you're a good person… It hurts. I know you did it for Remus and it's got nothing to do with me, I just – I can't –"

Her voice broke on a sob and she buried her face in James's chest, her arms winding around his waist and clinging, engulfing herself in his scent and his warmth and the fact that he was alive and right where he was supposed to be. James tightened his hold on her and he thought about the same thing. However much it hurt him to have put Lily through any moment of worry, his heart had perked and soared with every word she said, every word that just _had_ to mean she loved him.

"It's all right," James murmured against her hair as her body trembled in his arms. "Everything's okay, love, I'm right here…"

Outside, Remus leaned away from the door and looked at the others. "Maybe we shouldn't listen anymore," he said uncertainly.

"You reckon they're about to shag?" Sirius guessed with a wicked grin.

"I hope not," Peter said sincerely. He thought it would be a little off for the two of them to shag when Lily was so obviously upset. "She's already crying."

"Right, and James hitting on her would only make her cry harder."

Sirius feigned a gasp at Remus's words. "Moony!" he chastised. "That's mean."

"Oh, whatever." Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't even get me started on you, Sirius Everybody-Needs-to-Shag Black."

"That's a good one, Moony," Sirius said appreciatively before repeating the nickname. "Much better than 'Padfoot,' really. Let's see… James Can't-Close-the-Deal Potter, Peter Doesn't-Know-Anything-About-Birds Pettigrew, and Remus I-Have-No-Sex-Drive Lupin. Yes." Sirius nodded. "I like it."

Peter smacked Sirius in the back of the head and Remus forced a laugh, thinking that he was probably more of the Hopelessly-Besotted-and-Clueless type, but perhaps he'd just keep that between him and Lily for now.

* * *

**Monday, 9:43 P.M.**

James leaned against the doorway next to Remus, waiting rather impatiently for Benjy Fenwick to finish talking to Lily. They'd just wrapped up that week's prefect meeting and Lily and Remus were due to start rounds for the night, but James had decided to lag behind until he saw Fenwick leave. He wasn't jealous or anything – that would be ridiculous, nonsensical – but, well… James scuffed his toe against the stone floor and tried not to think about it anymore.

"Shut up, Moony," he muttered to Remus, who had been shaking with laughter at him for the past five minutes.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, only half-sincere. "You're just being rather stupid, that's all."

James scowled at his shoes. "You're stupid."

That only made Remus laugh harder, but fortunately James didn't have to succumb himself to much more embarrassment. Fenwick said something that made Lily laugh, he gave her a playful shove, and then he made his way out the door. James strongly considered hexing him on his way out, but then he supposed that was the sort of thing the Head Boy wasn't supposed to do.

Lily caught the look on his face and crossed her arms. "All right," she said, already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask, "what's got your wand in a knot?"

"Well, that's my cue to leave," Remus said none-too-smoothly. "I'll just wait for you outside, Lil."

James waited until the door swung shut behind him before he did anything. He'd toyed with the idea of hexing Fenwick now, perhaps hexing him later, but ultimately he decided he had a much better outlet for his annoyance with the male population of Hogwarts. So instead of pouting or making some smart remark, James caught Lily's hips in his hands and pulled her flush against him, stifling her gasp of surprise as he covered her mouth with his.

Yes, James thought when Lily's mouth and hands and body responded to his touch, this was a much better use of his pent-up irritation than pulling his wand on some other bloke. Why waste time making Lily put-off with him when he could just as easily do what all those other blokes _wanted_ to do? Of course, if any of them tried to put their hands on Lily the way James was now, there was no way he'd second-guess a good hex; but that, he thought, was excusable.

"James…" Lily started to giggle, but it broke off into a moan when James pushed her back against the front desk, his mouth working furiously at her neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against her skin. His hands moved to untuck her shirt, his thumbs tracing the line of her hipbone. Her breath was shallow and ragged and dotted with small, whimpering moans that originated deep in the back of her throat. James groaned against the slope of her neck. This was like torture – sweet fantastic wonderful torture.

"Make that sound again," he murmured in her ear, panting, practically begging as one of his hands found its way down the front of her skirt. Maybe it had been all the stress of the new term or the fight they'd had the day before, or maybe it was just the fact that he got to do all these things to Lily Evans, but James had been finding it harder and harder to contain himself around her lately. He wanted to touch, to taste, to feel every last single inch of her, and he wanted to keep doing it for hours and days and nights and he didn't want to stop. He knew he wouldn't have a clue what he'd be doing if they got as far as he wanted them to go, but right then he wanted it – he wanted _her_ – anyway.

"James, I – I can't, I have to go –" But Lily's voice broke off again, segueing into the exact sound James had longed for her to repeat. James's fingers crept past the line of her knickers and he dipped his head to suck at her collarbone.

"Mmmm… Don't go." James immediately slipped two fingers inside of her and groaned again at the feel of her, at her sharp intake of breath. Her hands clutched at his back, fingernails digging into the skin beneath his shirt.

Lily made that little whimpering noise again and James thought he might lose his head if she kept at it. She leaned back against the desk, back back back, until she was lying across it and James had climbed on top of her, his fingers still working, lips sucking at her neck and shoulders, her jaw, her collarbone, behind her ear, and all the while he was murmuring into her skin, begging her to stay.

"Stay here, right here with me," he whispered as he ghosted his mouth past hers. She moaned, gasped, whimpered, almost sobbed in ecstasy when he twitched his fingers inside of her. "I'll make love to you right now, right on this desk…"

Lily thought she might implode, explode, shatter, bend, break, just as his whispered entreaties danced across her exposed flesh. Her hips moved instinctively with the motions of his hand, she could hardly breathe and her heart surely wasn't supposed to be doing what it was doing. There was a vague and unimportant voice in the back of her head, reminding her that Remus was outside and they had to start rounds… But the way James was on top of her, the way he was dragging his mouth over her skin, the way his fingers circled and plunged and massaged… She was sighing his name, over and over, the way she did every time he got his hands on her.

"Keep doing that." James's voice was low and husky in her ear. He bit and sucked at the lobe, panting those deep, harsh breaths. "Keep saying my name."

Lily was only too happy to oblige (as if she had a choice), and James was losing it. It was the taste of her tongue, the scent of her skin, the way her body moved against his and the sounds he elicited from her, it was absolutely every last bit of her, and he didn't want to leave any corner undiscovered.

"Lily, I want you." James's breath hitched and it caught and he groaned as Lily grinded her hips against his hand. He loved how confident she was, how uninhibited and free with her moans and her movements she was. He took her mouth again, harshly, possessively, and it screamed of every last iota of his desperation for her. "I can't stand this anymore. Let me make love to you, I want you so bad…"

"Yes." Lily was unhesitant, immediate, the agreement riding off her sigh. "Oh, God… yes, James…"

"Yes what?" No matter how his heart had leapt and exploded in his chest, James needed more, he wanted to hear her say it, exactly what she wanted from him. His mouth ran a hot trail down the side of her face. "Tell me, Lily, tell me what you want me to do to you."

Lily sat up quickly, her hands flying to the front of James's trousers, undoing the snap and the zipper. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tugged him close, rolling her hips into his so that he let out that low, guttural groan and bit down on the slope of her shoulder again. Lily gripped the back of his neck and forced his mouth back to hers and she murmured against it, "Make love to me, James. Here, on this desk, I want you now."

"Say more things like that." James pushed her back onto the desk, her legs still wrapped around his waist, her back arching into him. "Come on, Lily, tell me –"

But before Lily could respond in a way James knew would drive him fantastically up-the-wall mad, there was a knock on the door and Remus's voice came floating through the other side. "Are you two still in there?" he called. "McGonagall just passed through the corridor and asked if we'd started patrol yet."

James swore under his breath, trying to collect himself as he called back, "Yeah, we're here. Just a minute."

Remus's footsteps retreated and James shut his eyes, counted to ten, and turned back to Lily. Her skin was flushed, eyes bright, hair a mess, and James nearly whimpered from the intensity with which he wanted her. She gave him a half-frustrated, half-apologetic look and said, "I _told_ you I had to go."

"That certainly wasn't the _last_ thing you were telling me." James backed off the desk and pulled Lily to her feet. They adjusted their clothing and smoothed back their hair, both buzzing with unfulfilled electricity. James twined his fingers through Lily's hair and kissed her once, quickly.

"We're not finished," he said against her lips. He pulled back, allowing his hands to drift down her arms, tracing the curve of her waist, fingers pinching slightly at her hips. "Come to my room after rounds."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Lily assured him, her voice breathy. She bit her lip and dropped her eyes to his mouth, dipping her fingers over the tops of his trousers and pulling him against her. "I reckon I've got a couple of things left to say to you, anyway, don't I?"

James released the whimper then, silenced by Lily's lips on his. It was a quick kiss, hasty and full of a promise they didn't have time to make good on just yet. When they left the classroom, they found Remus leaning against the opposite wall, fixing them with an exasperated but amused look.

"You two…" He shook his head. "Someone needs to tell Sirius and Marlene that they've got some competition."

"No thanks to you and McGonagall," James said. He clapped Remus on the shoulder. "Go do your bloody patrol. Just make it quick, yeah?"

Remus's gaze shifted to Lily. "Please tell me that's not the line he uses on you."

Lily laughed while James ruffled up his friend's hair. "I'll see you both later," James said. He kissed Lily's cheek and gave her a swift pat across the back of her skirt, jogging away before she could turn to smack him. His gleeful whistling echoed down the corridor as he disappeared around the next corner.

Remus and Lily set off in the opposite direction, chatting lightly about their day and the homework they'd been assigned. They were reviewing old spells, advancing in theories, mixing complicated potions, everything that would prepare them for their N.E.W.T. examinations in May. Lily touched on the subject of Dorcas Meadowes again, but Remus still wasn't sure what to do or how to go about it, so she let it drop until he was ready to discuss it again.

"D'you want to split this last floor?" Lily asked when they were nearing the end of their patrol time. She feigned a yawn in an attempt to trick Remus into thinking she was just tired. Really, she'd been tingling in all sorts of interesting places ever since she and James had busied themselves on top of that desk, and she was eager for them to pick up where they'd left off.

"Sure." Remus wasn't fooled, but he actually was tired so he wouldn't mind cutting their remaining time in half, either. "I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

They split off then, Remus in one direction and Lily in the other. Ever since the incident with Jenny Jenkins last year, the prefects were expected to employ the buddy system during rounds, but with each passing night and the lack of anymore deaths, they'd all become a bit lax with the expectations in their haste to finish up and go to bed. Tonight was no different, but perhaps it should have been.

About three or so minutes into her alone time, Lily heard a noise behind the tapestry she was passing; the material shifted noticeably and she expected to find an amorous couple behind it. She sighed a little at the prospect – she hated breaking up snogs, it was so awkward and quite frankly hypocritical of her – but she pushed the curtain aside and was promptly thrown back into the stone wall. Lily gasped for breath that had a hard time coming. Thick fingers were curled around her throat, pressing into her windpipe, causing her heart to run rampant and her vision to swim. There was a low laugh in her ear and another hand gripped her thigh, setting the panic in Lily's bones on fire.

"Don't the Mudbloods ever learn?" the voice hissed, and Lily recognized it as Mulciber's. "See, Reg, it's pretty easy to hunt them down; they're so damn gullible."

Lily looked over Mulciber's shoulder to see Regulus Black, his weight shifting from one foot to the next and back again, his eyes a little wider than usual. He was rubbing his forearm with an unnatural fervor. Next to him – Lily would have scowled if she could manage to catch her breath – was Snape, expressionless, his wand twirling lazily between his fingers.

"You should –" Regulus swallowed to prevent his voice from squeaking so much – "loosen your grip, Mulciber, she's going to pass out."

"Don't be such a pansy, Reg," Mulciber barked, but his fingers relented enough that Lily's lungs didn't feel like they were so doused in flames. "She'll be begging for unconsciousness in a minute."

"Get – off – me –" Lily gasped with the breaths she was able to take. "Bloody – son of a –" She twitched violently when Snape's Stinging Hex slapped her across the face. The skin beneath her left eye burned and she was sure it would leave a welt, at the very least.

Mulciber's hand tightened once, slowly and painfully, and the fingernails of his other hand scratched menacingly into the skin on her leg. "Watch your manners, Mudblood," he snarled.

"Let – go –" Lily's hand longed for her wand, but she was so sandwiched between the wall and Mulciber's body that she couldn't reach to pull it from her pocket. Her head was spinning, her heart pounding, all in a panicked frenzy, hoping against hope that the ten minutes were almost up so that Remus would come looking for her and she could give Mulciber and Snape what they were asking for.

"You want a go at her?" Mulciber asked Snape. "Or should we give her to Regulus first?"

"What?" Regulus's voice caught in his throat. "Who said anything about me? I thought –"

"What the hell does it matter?" Mulciber snapped at him. "What's up your ass, Reg? You don't have to be given a direct order to do something."

Regulus looked terrible: uncomfortable, shifty, distraught. "I'm just – Potter's going to have our heads for this as it is –"

"Quit worrying about Potter," Snape said before he turned to Mulciber. That festering rage was bubbling within him again, as it always did whenever he saw Lily now. "Move over, I'll go first."

As soon as she was released, Lily's hand flew to her pocket for her wand, her only mode of defense, but Snape caught her wrist, his fingers biting into her skin as she was slammed back into the wall again. Her spine rattled against the stone and another Stinging Hex hit her face.

"Don't even think about it," Snape said, his voice so low that only Lily could hear him. "You're not getting to your wand and your boyfriend's not coming to help, so just keep your mouth shut –"

"You're a damn filthy _coward_," Lily spat, the words coming easier since Snape's grip on her throat wasn't as strong as Mulciber's had been.

"I'm _not_," Snape countered furiously. "You don't have a clue what you're talking about. I'm the coward, is that right, that's why it's Potter who pulls his wand on everyone just because he feels like it, that's why it's Potter who needs two or three of his mates to back him up whenever he starts a fight –"

Lily's eyes flashed and her temper flared as her former friend spat insults about James. It was Snape who was attacking her unprovoked, Snape who had two fellow Death Eaters behind him, yet it was still Snape who had the audacity to accuse James of being a coward… Lily's foot stomped into one of his, and her arm gave a violent jerk to release itself from Snape's grip. He stumbled back from her, shooting another hex, but Lily had her wand out then and she blocked it. In her distraction to block Snape's, though, Lily didn't manage to save herself from Mulciber's; she was blasted backwards, hitting the wall and sliding down against it, crumpling to the floor, her bones jarring and her muscles aching, a string of curses expelling from her mouth.

"What did I tell you about manners?" Mulciber was crouched over her, his wand held loosely in his hand. Lily kicked at him, catching his wand so fiercely that it snapped; a shower of sparks emitted from the disjoined ends, and Mulciber swore loudly, cursing Lily with every foul name he could think of. He hit her hard across the face, catching the same eye that had been burned by Snape's first hex.

Before Lily could retaliate further, Mulciber fell silent, a glazed look crossing his face before his eyelids drooped and he fell backwards. Lily looked around, scrambling to a standing position when she saw Remus making his furious way down the corridor, his wand aloft and pointed at Snape now.

"Get away from her," Remus ordered, and Lily had never seen Remus Lupin look so murderous before; she didn't know his naturally kind features were even capable of such an expression. "Don't point your wand at her again, Snape, or I swear to Merlin, I will kill you right here and now."

Snape scowled and turned his wand on Remus, but Lily was too quick that time. _"Expelliarmus!"_ she shouted, and Snape's wand flew out of his hand towards the other end of the corridor, clattering against the stone floor there. Recognizing defeat, Snape threw the Gryffindors one last filthy look that clearly stated this wasn't the end of it, that he wasn't finished with either of them. He and a white-faced Regulus hauled Mulciber to his feet and made their way down the corridor, pausing to fetch Snape's wand, and disappearing from sight.

The hard expression in Remus's eyes softened when he turned to Lily. "Are you all right?"

"I'm –" Lily swallowed to steady the shake in her voice. "No – I don't know. I think."

Remus saw the bruises on her, the marks on her leg and arm, her neck and face – there were two angry red gashes on her cheek and a black eye was blossoming. He knew that Lily was no stranger to such abrasions, but the sight of them made the anger boil in his stomach nonetheless.

"Come on," he said, taking her arm in a soft, comforting grip. "Let's get you back to Gryffindor tower, yeah?"

Lily nodded and allowed herself to be led down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, and down the Fat Lady's hall. The painted woman gasped a little at Lily's injuries but after a telling shake of Remus's head, she didn't remark any further and swung forward to allow them entrance. Remus directed Lily across the empty common room to the boys' staircase; he was sure that she wouldn't be up for whatever she and James had planned, but he thought it would be best if James saw her for himself instead of hearing the story from Remus.

The other boys were still awake. Sirius and Peter were playing a game of chess, and James lounged on his bed, flipping listlessly through one of his textbooks. He looked up eagerly when the door opened, but his expression darkened when he saw the state Lily was in.

"What the –" He jumped from his bed, the book falling to the floor with a loud _thud_. "What happened?"

"Slytherins." Remus handed Lily off to James, who took her shaking body up in his arms immediately. "Mulciber, Snape… and Regulus."

Sirius was up from his seat then, too. "Regulus?" he echoed furiously, his mind flashing images of a boy he hardly knew anymore. "What the hell did my brother do to you, Lily?"

Lily shook her head. "It wasn't him," she said. "Regulus – he didn't do anything. I don't think he wanted to."

"So it was Snape and Mulciber?" Peter said. He plucked his wand up from his bedside table. "Well, I expect we're off to take care of this, then."

"Damn right," James growled, and he moved to release Lily to get his own wand, but she held fast around his waist.

"No," she said quietly so that only James could hear her muffled voice against his chest. "No, don't, not right now." She blew out a shaky breath, her lips tugging at the material of his shirt when she spoke. "Please don't go."

James struggled a bit. He wanted to go – had to go – but he couldn't, not when Lily was clinging to him the way she was, not when she asked him not to leave. Really, in the end, it was no contest and no question. He wasn't going to leave her alone. So he looked around at his friends and shook his head, mouthing _Later_ because he knew he wasn't letting this go. Between last year's Cruciatus incident and this and everything in between, James wasn't going to let Snape get away with it.

When she was sure that James was going to stay put for the night, Lily pressed her lips against the base of his throat and released him. She turned to Remus then and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a strong embrace. She'd seen the way he'd defended her, the look in his eye, and the words he'd threatened Snape with echoed in her head. She'd never for a second doubted Remus's devotion to the people he cared about, but it was something to see it. Whenever any of them proved such devotion to her, Lily never knew how to properly convey her gratitude, so she settled on holding them like this.

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him tight.

"You and me, Lil, we've got to stick together, don't we?" Remus said as he hugged her back. "The Muggle-born and the half-breed."

Lily laughed, the sound weak and shaky but still discernible, and right then that was the most important thing. "I prefer to think of it as Evans and Moony," she said, and Remus's smile spread a little wider.


	6. Boiling Point

_The song Lily listens to later in the chapter is "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton. Thought I should mention it now in case you wanted to know in the moment. Read, enjoy, feel, review!_

* * *

**Wednesday, 8:15 A.M.**

**THE SKEETER SCOOP  
**_Researched and Written by Yours, Rita Skeeter_

_It seems that Lily Evans has hardly been satiated by the likes of James Potter and (rumored) Remus Lupin, as the feisty redhead was seen canoodling with one Severus Snape late Monday night._

"_It's not much of a surprise, is it?" commented _Skeeter_ insider Narcissa Black. "Last year it was between Diggory and Potter. I'm hardly surprised that she's trying to get back into Snape's good graces now, too."_

_Good graces which, as much of Hogwarts is aware, were lost two years ago during an unprovoked attack on Snape. The incident, which took place after the Ordinary Wizarding Examinations…_

James skimmed over the next paragraph, outlining his fifteen-year-old indiscretion. He knew what he'd done and he didn't need to be reminded. In any case, Skeeter had turned the tables and made it sound as though Lily had asked to be verbally attacked when, really, all she'd been trying to do was help that ungrateful little slime ball. James couldn't believe that anyone would buy this "canoodling" rubbish, but just seeing the words there in front of him was enough to make him ill.

"This is shit," he said, crumpling the parchment in his fist and tossing it away from him. "No mention of the attack. How did she even find out about any of this?"

"Reckon Snape or Mulciber clued her in enough for her to make a story," Peter guessed. "You know they'd do anything to get to you like this."

"Right." James pushed a hand through his hair. "That's going to kill Lily, to read that."

"Not as much as it's going to kill Skeeter to have written it," Remus said, his eyes fixed across the hall at the Slytherin table. "Look, I think Marlene got ahold of a copy; she's going straight for Skeeter now."

James and Sirius spun around in their seats to see that Remus was quite right: Marlene McKinnon, _Skeeter_ parchment in hand, was marching up to where the aspiring reporter was sitting with Dorcas Meadowes, the latter of whom looked increasingly uncomfortable there. Alice was on Marlene's heels, trying to talk her down but looking just as furious. Lily was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, _shit_," Sirius said, but there was no mistaking the delighted grin that had spread across his face.

"Do you think we'll be able to –" Peter began, but his question was answered as Marlene's furious shout echoed across the Great Hall.

"What the _fuck_ is this?" she demanded of Rita, shoving _The Skeeter Scoop_ under her nose.

Rita seemed unperturbed by Marlene's outburst, and she responded in a voice that carried just as well as Marlene's without having to shout. "It's the latest edition of the _Scoop_. Can't you read?"

"Do you think this is funny?" Marlene wanted to know. "You think it's some sort of clever joke, Skeeter?"

"It's just news," Rita replied lightly.

"Retract it," Marlene said. She balled the parchment up and threw it on the table. "Get rid of every last damn copy of this garbage."

Rita turned to look at Marlene, regarding her shrewdly through those ugly wing-tipped glasses. "You're awfully sensitive about this, McKinnon. Tell me, then, how do you feel –"

"How do I _feel_?" Marlene echoed, furious and disgusted and completely blown away that anyone could be such a self-absorbed little bint that they would willfully hurt someone who didn't deserve it. "I _feel_ like I'm about to curse you into a bloodstain on the wall!"

"Too far, Marlene," Alice warned. She caught her friend's arm as she reached for her wand. Alice's eyes flashed to the high table and she saw that Professor McGonagall was about to make her way over. "Let's go before you get yourself a detention."

Marlene jerked her arm out of Alice's grip and with one last scathing look at Rita, she stormed off to sit with Sirius. Alice met Rita's eye then. "How about you lay off Lily," she suggested. "She deals with enough without you making up stories about her, too."

When Alice had turned on her heel and followed Marlene's trail to the Gryffindor table, Rita turned to Dorcas. "These Gryffindors are really something, aren't they?" she said.

"I dunno." Dorcas let her eyes drop from the red-clothed table. She'd just caught Remus Lupin regarding her with the oddest expression on his face, and for some reason it made her feel guilty. "Maybe Prewett's right, Rita. Just lay off Evans for a bit."

"But she's so _interesting_," Rita protested. She prodded Marlene's abandoned and crumpled-up copy of the _Scoop_. "I can't get this sort of thing from anyone else."

"Rita, you make it all up," Dorcas reminded her. "Can't you make it up about someone else?"

Rita tapped her fingernails against the tabletop a little impatiently. "Evans has such a foundation, though," she tried to explain to her gossip-impaired friend. "There's something juicier about everything from the Lily Evans point of view."

"I don't think any of that's her point of view, really…" Dorcas stole another look at the Gryffindor table to see how Evans was handling the _just news_, but she wasn't there.

"Whatever." Rita waved a dismissive hand. "Point is, she makes a good story."

Dorcas sighed; she knew there was no talking Rita out of anything she wanted to do. "Well, then, dear, maybe just tread a little more carefully," she recommended, shifting her gaze quickly back to her plate when she caught Lupin's eye again. "Otherwise I bet McKinnon will make sure you make a good bloodstain."

* * *

Things did not improve over the next few days, especially for Lily. After skimming the newest edition of _The Skeeter Scoop_ on Wednesday morning, she'd locked herself in her dorm to rage about it in peace; it was quite satisfying to conjure and smash plates with various Slytherins' faces on them. But she couldn't stay and smash forever, so eventually Lily ventured into the corridors and classrooms, and everything went on in its usual, terrible fashion.

She should have expected it; it was, after all, the Lily Evans custom to be jeered at, jinxed, and judged. She shot inconspicuous counterjinxes at the Slytherins, ignored that stupid smirk on Snape's face whenever she saw him, and a few times she'd caught James by the collar of his shirt and snogged him in the corridor, just to remind the likes of Gwen McIntyre why she should keep her snide comments to herself. At any rate, James never seemed to mind, and only pulled away when McGonagall reprimanded them about what a poor example they were setting. But he didn't seem to care about that, either, if the dazed look on his face was any indication, and Lily was rather sure that it was.

Despite knee-weakening corridor kisses, though, it came to Lily's attention that James wasn't his usual cheery self, either. There was a stiffness in his spine, a lack of buoyancy in his step, and he only seemed to relax when Lily was around, when he was sure she was safe and unscathed (aside from her lingering injuries from Monday night). He was always touching her in some gesture of mingled intimacy and protectiveness, and there was a flicker of pain across his visage whenever his fingers brushed over her fading bruises.

When they were alone, the heat and desperation was just as palpable as it had been Monday night, if not more so. It was persistent, relentless, and oftentimes frustrating. They both knew what they wanted, that the want was mutual, but something was holding them back. After his indecent proposal that they shag on the desk, James felt that he had something to make up for; he didn't want something that important to be reduced to a quickie in a classroom, and he was ashamed of himself for suggesting it, no matter how much Lily wanted it, too. Both of them struggled with the even deeper desire to quit being such twits and say "I love you" first, just so the other one _knew_, just so they knew that this wasn't some unimportant, hormonal whim – it was _more_ than that.

But between everything they had to do, everything they had to worry about – Head duties, homework, Snape and Skeeter and the rest of them, the ever-increasing danger of the war they read about every morning in the _Daily Prophet_ – they couldn't seem to fit in any serious conversation when they were alone, because they were too busy being persistent, relentless, and frustrating. It was a vicious circle, and they were both sure that it would culminate in an explosive way. But as their mouths were otherwise occupied whenever an opportunity presented itself, they just didn't talk about it.

Meanwhile, James and the other Marauders were still fuming over the events of Monday night. When Lily wasn't around, Remus had filled them in on every detail he'd been witness to, and it was enough to set James even closer to the edge than he already was.

"So Regulus didn't do anything?" Sirius pressed for the dozenth time as the foursome made their way down the corridor Friday afternoon. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Remus told him again. "Lily wouldn't lie about that. Anyway, Sirius, if you could have seen his face…" Remus shook his head. "I know he's gotten himself into this, but I don't think he wants it the way he thought he did before."

Agitated and not sure what to do about it, Sirius flicked some hair out of his eyes, wondering vaguely how the hell that sort of thing ever helped James deal with his aggravation. As if on cue, James pushed a hand through his hair and said, "Right, so Regulus is off the hook, then. I'm feeling like I should get right at Snape's throat, though."

"Don't forget Mulciber," Remus said darkly. "That's how Lily got the black eye."

"Either way," Peter interjected before James could agree, "here's your chance…"

The others looked around to follow Peter's gaze and saw Snape, Mulciber, and Regulus coming around the next corner. James didn't waste any time; he quickened his pace, one hand curling around the handle of his wand. He got to Mulciber first, grabbed him by the neck of the robes, and shoved him back, away from the others. Mulciber, for his part, choked out a laugh despite the fact that James had his forearm pressed into his throat, pinning him against the stone wall.

"What's the matter, Potter?" He sneered. "Upset that I got my hands on your little Mudblood girlfriend, are you –"

"Shut up," James ordered, the end of his wand jabbing into Mulciber's stomach. "If you come near her again, I'll do a lot worse than strangle you."

James was only distantly aware of the noise behind him, noise that suggested Sirius had managed to Disarm his brother and Remus had hit Snape with a Full-Body Bind, effectively freezing the other Slytherins until James was ready to deal with them.

Mulciber wheezed out another humorless chuckle. "You're weak, Potter," he snarled. "Do you think threats are going to stop the Dark Lord coming after blood traitors like you? Do you think he'll spare that Mudblood whore if you keep sparing his followers? That's not how it works –"

"I don't give a _damn_ how it works," James shot back, his wand pressing more firmly into Mulciber's gut, emitting involuntary sparks that sizzled against his skin. "Stay away from her, stay away from us, or I promise you, you sick bastard, that I can make your life just as much of a living hell. _Stupefy!_"

James's arm released the now unconscious form of Mulciber so that he slid down the wall and crumpled on the floor, eyes shut and mouth lolling open. He'd said what he wanted to that particular Slytherin; James knew that Mulciber would be easy – there was no history between him and Lily, no lingering feelings of bitterness or whatever else Snape was harboring. James knew it wouldn't take more than a threat to get Mulciber to back off, no matter what the latter said to the contrary. He was nothing but a cowardly lapdog. And while Snape might have been the same, he had a lot more to drive him.

Regulus's dark eyes flitted from Mulciber's body to Snape to James and back to Snape, anywhere that didn't require he meet his brother's eye. Sirius had his wand and Regulus was silently grateful for it; this was not a situation he wanted to fight in. He'd known from the beginning that Potter would be after them for this, and he knew that Sirius wasn't above dueling any of his former family. Regulus didn't think he had the will to fight any of them; it was much easier to fight and torture and kill people he didn't know, people whose abilities he could freely doubt, but Potter and Sirius certainly weren't wizards whom Regulus could afford to underestimate.

In any case, Regulus Black was the least of James's worries. He'd pointed his wand at Snape and given the countercurse to snap him out of Remus's Full-Body Bind, and they both had their wands out now, glaring daggers at each other, waiting for the first spell to be cast. James didn't have any intentions to start a duel; no matter how much he wanted to hurt Snape, he couldn't afford it just then, not when he thought of Lily and how disappointed she'd be if things panned out poorly.

"You think you're such a big man, don't you, Potter?" Snape hissed. His wand dug into James's heart. "Running around, playing the hero, risking the lives of your worthless friends just so you can show off your arrogance…"

"You're off it," James growled. "You're not going after my mates just because you hate me. Don't blame _me_ for the bullshit you've gotten yourself into, and _don't_ come near Lily again. I told you last year and I'm telling you now – don't think about her, don't talk to her, pretend she doesn't exist."

"Or what, Potter?" Snape said. "What's your hero complex going to do if I tell you to piss off?"

The point of James's wand twisted into the base of Snape's throat. Hazel eyes flashed and black ones smoldered, glaring, silently egging the other on, goading them into starting a real fight. The air was heavy with tension, fraught with loathing, and both James and Snape knew that the only way this was ever going to truly end was in one of their deaths, and even that might not be enough.

"I'll tell you what, Snivellus," James said, his voice low and his hands itching to bruise and break, "and I want you to listen very closely, really take this to heart: If you come anywhere close to her, if you step out of the line I'm drawing, you're going to wish you'd never laid eyes on her at all. Touch her again, and I'll kill you."

And with that, James shoved his wand back into his pocket and turned away from Snape. He looked at Sirius and tilted his head toward the younger Black. "Give him his wand," James said. "I don't have anything to say to him."

Sirius tossed the confiscated wand at his brother's feet, steadfastly refusing to look at him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast as well, not bothering to watch as the Gryffindors continued on their way down the corridor and around the corner, disappearing from sight and leaving nothing behind except that lingering disgust in the air: Disgust with the Slytherins, the Death Eaters, the prejudice and the war, and most importantly, perhaps – to Regulus, at least – was Sirius's disgust with his own brother.

Regulus tried to shake off that feeling as he turned to Snape and asked, "What'd Potter say to you?"

"Nothing important." Snape stowed his wand back into his robes. He was hardly fazed by James's threat, sure that he could take on the Gryffindor when the time came, for surely it would. Their seven-year rivalry had come to a head last year, ever since Lily and James's first kiss in that December snow, and since then it had been climbing steadily to the tip of a precipice from which one of the boys would fall. Snape did not anticipate being the one to lose anymore than he already had – he didn't have anything left as it was, and he'd be damned if he let James Potter take anything else away from him, no matter how insignificant those things were.

James Potter had taken away the one thing that Snape had. Despite the bitterness, the betrayal, and the loathing he felt whenever he thought of Lily, whenever he saw her, there was still that longing. He'd watch her fingers tangle with Potter's, watch as Potter brought her hand up to kiss her wrist, and he'd think about how that shouldn't be happening. He'd see her wind a protective arm around Lupin's waist as they walked together, and he'd scowl at the fact that she could be so affectionate with a bloody werewolf. She would laugh at one of Pettigrew's jokes, and Snape would kick himself because her smile was so much brighter looking at _Peter Pettigrew_ than it had ever been when she looked at him. She would rumple up Black's hair, trying to get it to stay messy, and she'd laugh and hug him when he made some comment about how his good looks just couldn't be marred, and Snape couldn't believe that she was falling for that arrogance. It made him sick to see those good-for-nothing boys regard her with such affection, and to watch, helpless, as she returned that in kind.

Snape just couldn't shake how _wrong_ it all was, how it should be him she was doing all those things with and it wasn't. None of it was right. So Potter could threaten him all he liked, but Snape wasn't backing down. He wouldn't be finished until things were right again, no matter how impossible that was. Even though, deep down, Snape knew it was no use, when it was all over, at least he could say he tried.

* * *

**Saturday, 10:30 A.M.**

Dorcas sat in the stands next to Rita, waiting for the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match to start, not really listening as her friend jabbered on about things Dorcas couldn't bring herself to care about. She responded every so often with noncommittal words and nods of her head, but she let her eyes wander, hovering when they found the Gryffindors.

Alice Prewett, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin sat together, Marlene McKinnon having gone off to the commentator's booth (that should be interesting, Dorcas thought). Dorcas knew that Potter and Black played Chaser, and she wondered idly where Lily Evans was that morning; she supposed that the missing Gryffindor was in the locker rooms, waiting to wish her boyfriend luck on his first match of the season. That seemed like the sort of thing Evans would do.

Dorcas continued to watch the trio in the stands. Prewett was gesturing a bit with her hands, the sunlight glinting off the diamond on her finger, smiling and swatting Pettigrew playfully when he said something to make her laugh. Lupin was saying something then, a smile dancing around the corners of his mouth, and Dorcas couldn't help but think that he was really quite handsome. He looked tired most of the time and he had some light scars on his face, but there was something inviting about his thick, floppy mop of sandy hair, and his gray eyes were usually cheery despite the dark shadows smudged beneath them. He was tall – Dorcas had always preferred it when they were tall – and he was thin, a bit lean, and he had inordinately lovely hands. Dorcas had found herself very distracted by Remus Lupin's hands lately. She'd watch them in Potions as they cut and measured ingredients, in the library as they flipped pages in a book, in the Great Hall when they'd reach for his goblet, in the corridors when they'd adjust the strap of his bag and ran tiredly over his face…

Yes, Remus Lupin and his lovely hands were really very distracting.

"_Dorcas!"_ Fingers were snapping impatiently in front of her face, and Dorcas shook herself of her daydream so she could slap Rita's hands away.

"Argh! What?"

"What is with you?" Rita wanted to know, although she'd followed her friend's gaze and she'd figured it out herself. She'd had her suspicions for awhile, after all. "Your eyes were glazing over, I thought you were about to pass out."

Dorcas snorted in an attempt to appear normal. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I was just spacing out, that's all. No need to put your claws so close to my eyes like that. I don't want to be blinded by your talons."

"Oh, no, of course you don't," Rita simpered. "How else would you stare at Lupin if I accidentally gouged out your pretty brown eyes?"

"What – Rita, what are you – no, don't be –" Dorcas spluttered, stumbling over her words, unsure of which protestation to use to deter Rita's accusation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Rita rolled her eyes. "Oh, _please_," she said. "You couldn't be more obvious if you went up to him and just started snogging him. In fact, I reckon you ought to do just that."

Dorcas could feel her face reddening and she fixed her eyes on the deserted pitch. "Oh, bugger off, will you?" she muttered, and Rita seemed satisfied enough to drop the subject.

The truth was, Dorcas had thought about it. She hadn't seriously considered going about it as dramatically as Rita had suggested, but Dorcas had at least considered talking to Lupin, maybe asking him out if she plucked up enough courage. He was obviously smart, he seemed nice, and Dorcas wanted to get to know him more than that. But what with this _Skeeter Scoop_ business and the tension between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Dorcas wasn't exactly confident that she stood a chance. Evans had never been anything but nice to her, but Dorcas was sure that McKinnon and Potter and maybe some of the others hated her by her association with Rita.

She'd caught Pettigrew looking at her quite a bit, and she wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing; it almost worried her that it was a good thing, because she didn't want to get trapped in some Pettigrew-fancies-me-but-I-fancy-Lupin triangle. And she'd certainly caught Lupin looking at her, too, and those moments where their eyes met were always unforgivably humiliating for some reason. Regardless of all those feelings, though, Dorcas had no idea what any of it meant or if it meant anything at all. She'd considered asking Rita, but then she thought telling Rita too much was never a good idea, so instead Dorcas had simply stewed in her own misgivings.

Her eyes flicked back to Lupin and their gazes locked for half a second before they both turned away again. Dorcas felt her heart skitter about with unleashed butterflies, and she was sure that this whole stewing-in-misgivings thing wasn't going to cut it for much longer.

Down on the pitch, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams were approaching the center where Madam Hooch stood, whistle between her teeth. James and Sirius were deep in conversation, the former clearly agitated. No matter how many times Sirius told him to calm down and that everything would be fine, James knew that Merriman was alive with nerves and that Raiff was far too distracted by Vinner, and neither of those things boded well for the match. The only things James was sure he could count on were his Beaters, Sirius's natural confidence, and his own experience, and that wasn't necessarily enough for them to walk away with a win. It didn't help, either, when James glanced up in the stands to find a distinct absence of that shock of red hair he relied on seeing.

A frown crossed his face as he turned to Sirius and asked, "How much time do we have 'til kick-off?"

Sirius shook back his sleeve and checked his watch. "About five minutes. Why?"

"Lily's not here." James swung a leg over his broom and kicked off the ground to hover near the stands where he'd spotted Alice, Remus, and Peter.

There was the shrill sound of a whistle and Hooch's voice shouting, "POTTER! What do you think you're doing?"

"Just give me a minute, miss!" James shouted back. He turned to look at his friends, particularly Alice, who would know better than the other two. "Where's Lily?"

"I don't know," Alice said. She looked worried. "She wasn't in the dorm when we got up this morning, she wasn't at breakfast, she's not here… I don't know where she is."

A small flutter of panic began rustling deep in James's gut. "Do you think she's all right?"

"Yes, we saw all those Slytherins," Alice said, guessing the nature of James's concern as it had been her and Marlene's first idea as well. "Snape, Avery, Mulciber, Narcissa, the Carrows – they were all in the Great Hall, and they came right down to the pitch, too. I don't think anything bad's happened."

"She never misses Quidditch, though…" James said, glancing around the stands, still panicking slightly despite Alice's reassurance.

"I'm sure she'll turn up," Alice said, sounding far more confident than she felt. "Whatever it is, don't worry. You know she'd hate it if you got distracted during a match."

"Right, yeah…" James turned away from the Lily-absent stands and took a steady decline back to the pitch, wondering where she was and what could have happened to her.

James's worries aside, there was still a Quidditch match to be played. The captains shook hands, the whistle sounded, the crowd cheered, the players were shooting off to score goals and defend their posts, and Marlene's voice boomed out across the field.

"First Quidditch match of the season," she announced, "and my first time commentating, which is much more interesting than the match itself. Marlene McKinnon, how d'you do, and it's Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw this morning. Bloody hell, I'm already bollocks at this commentating business, aren't I?"

"Language, McKinnon," Professor McGonagall warned.

"Sorry, Professor," Marlene apologized flippantly. "All right, back to the match, then. That's Sirius Black with the Quaffle. Black's a new addition to the Gryffindor team, quite a good Chaser. I'm shagging him, you know –"

"McKinnon!"

"_Minerva_, I'm just giving the people what they want," Marlene went on placatingly as the crowd laughed uproariously. "You don't think they came here for a Quidditch match, do you? No, no, _no_, they want to hear what other positions Black is quite good at –"

Up in the air, James yelled over to Sirius, "She's about as bad as Jorkins!"

"Oy, shut it!" Sirius called back as he dodged a Bludger. "At least she's not judging your shoddy Quidditch skills!"

James grimaced a bit at that. They'd been at the game for less than ten minutes and Ravenclaw was already twenty points ahead, Merriman had dropped the Quaffle three times, and James had a sneaking suspicion that Raiff was spending more time looking over at the Gryffindor goalposts than he was searching for the Snitch. James had already sustained a shoulder injury from a passing Bludger and he wasn't looking forward to the match's outcome; he was sure it wouldn't be in his favor.

Not half an hour later, James's agitation had reached its peak with groans from the Gryffindors, cheers from the Ravenclaws, and Marlene's final bout of commentary: "Ravenclaw gets the Snitch," she said with a disgruntled snort. "Well, that's rubbish."

Unquestionably annoyed with his team and worried since Lily had never shown up to the match, James made his way back to the ground, sliding off his broom before he hit the grass and making his way toward Sirius, who had landed just a few feet away. The crowd was making its way out of the stands, milling around, congratulating the Ravenclaws or muttering about Gryffindor's less-than-stellar performance in their first match of the season. James's patience was shot, so when his Keeper came rushing up towards him and started talking, he brushed her off.

"Hey, James –"

"Can't talk right now, Vinner," James said, not caring how put-off she looked at the dismissal. He didn't have the time or patience to deal with Romy Vinner. He reached Sirius's side and he said, "Sirius, I have to go. Make sure everyone knows that I'm pissed and we've got practice Monday night."

Sirius's brow creased with his frown. "What's wrong?"

"Lily never showed up." James ran his fingers through his hair and clenched at it before dropping the hand back down to his side. "I'm going to look for her."

"D'you want me to come?" Sirius asked, worried that something bad may have happened and that James would need a back-up in case the Slytherins were to blame.

James shook his head. "No. I mean, you know, once I find out she's okay and I get my hands on her, I don't think you'll want to be there."

Sirius couldn't help a small grin at his friend's honesty. "Try to tear yourself away long enough to let us know that she's all right, you hear?"

"Yeah." James nodded and made his way through the crowd, his broom over his shoulder as he went. He decided to check the girls' dormitory first and since there was no way he was getting up that staircase, he figured his broomstick might come in handy.

Halfway across the grounds and well away from any teachers who might chastise him for an improper use of his broomstick or some other rubbish, James jumped back on and kicked off, gliding through the air towards Gryffindor tower and the seventh-year girls' window. When he located it, he pushed at the glass and was relieved to find that the window was unlocked; he navigated himself rather clumsily over the windowsill, tripping over his own feet and dropping his broom to the floor with a _clatter_.

He straightened, dusting off the front of his robes and adjusting his glasses. He looked around the room and found that it was more or less the same as the boys', albeit noticeably tidier. The hangings were open, beds made, and there were no clothes or candy wrappers scattered haphazardly over the floor. Something else that was different (although James was sure this wasn't a common occurrence) was that music was playing. It was a soft, slow tune that James didn't recognize; the sound scratched a bit but it was lovely, anyway. Soft and slow and somehow a little bit sad, although James wasn't sure why he thought so. He listened to the words and they were simple, they were about love, but there was an ache to them – a deep, palpable ache – and it tugged at James's heart the way that Lily's presence always did.

The sound was coming from the bed in the middle of the room, the only one that still had the maroon hangings closed around it. James made his way over and pushed the material aside, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that familiar red hair splayed over the pillow. Lily was curled up on her side, facing away from him. James shrugged out of his Quidditch robes and crawled into bed next to her, winding an arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest. She was shaking, he noticed, and the observation did away with his initial relief; he peeked over her shoulder to see that her face was pink and damp with tears.

"Hey," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple and leaving his lips there. "Lily, are you okay?"

She pretended not to hear the question and instead asked one of her own, despite the lump in her throat that had yet to dissolve since she'd gone down to an early breakfast that morning. "How was the match?"

"Lousy, we lost." James held her tighter and let go of the frustration he felt towards his team. He was so thankful to have found Lily in one piece and now he needed to concentrate on finding out what was wrong, so there was no time to piss and moan about Quidditch. "I don't give much of a damn at the moment, though. Please tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sorry I missed it," Lily said, still pretending that they weren't talking about anything but Quidditch. It hurt so much less than the answer to what James was asking, and Lily didn't want to hurt. She wanted to feel normal or hollow or anything that wasn't this pain.

"You didn't miss anything," James reassured her, "unless you count McKinnon's commentary. But then you get to hear her talk all the time, so I'm sure it's nothing different."

Lily chuckled a bit, but it was mostly forced. "Yes, I suppose that was good."

They lay in silence for a few moments, and during that time the music stopped. James caught sight of a strange machine sitting on the floor then; it was a box and there was a spindle sort of thing and something spinning around, emitting nothing now but a crackling static. James assumed that was where the music had been coming from.

"What's that thing?" he asked, pointing to it.

"Record player." Lily shifted her position, rolling over in James's arms so that her face was against his chest. She breathed in his smoke-and-peppermint scent; it was interspersed with the light fragrance of dried sweat and broom polish and the essence of someone who was very much alive, and it was this last thing that she clung to so desperately. "Mum sent it to me this morning. Lucky thing I could get it to work here, but the charm's not that difficult."

James ran his hands up and down Lily's back. Her voice was so quiet, choked with tears, and he thought he knew what this was about; the pieces were coming together and he didn't like the picture that was appearing. But before he could implore her to talk to him or ask anything else, Lily was talking without provocation.

"The song I was listening to… My dad bought the record this summer, for Mum's birthday." Lily allowed herself a small smile, but somehow that only made the pain in her chest more apparent. "She sort of hated it because the woman in the song is supposed to have blonde hair and hers is red. But Dad told her that was a stupid reason. He said –" Lily tripped over her next words and they came out in a sob as she remembered the sound of her father's voice, the warmth and light and fun and love that was always there. But she made herself keep talking, for her own sake, to distract herself from the pain that was burning hot trails of an unfixable despair through her body.

"He said that he'd finally found the song that made him feel the way she always made him feel." Lily felt the tears slide down her cheeks, felt the pressure of James's lips as they pressed against the top of her head. "I reckon that's a bit stupid, too, but Mum's always been weak-in-the-knees about stuff like that."

James nodded along with her story. Something about what Ian Evans had said to his wife resonated within James, and he wanted Lily to keep talking so he stayed silent, just listening and nodding and stroking her hair. He knew what this was about and he had absolutely no idea how to make it better.

"Dad's dead," Lily said on another sob, when she wasn't able to handle the silence anymore. "He died last night. I – I knew he was going to, but I thought – I just thought there was more time. I thought I'd get to see him again."

"Oh, Lily… I'm so sorry." James knew that was what was coming, had known it as soon as she'd told him that her mum had sent the record player. He pulled back a little to look at Lily's face, to dry the tears that were flowing down from her shattered eyes. "I – what can I do? Can I do anything, please?"

"Just – don't go anywhere." Lily wrapped her arms around James's neck and pulled him close so she could smell those so-very-alive scents that clung to him. "Stay here with me."

James wound his arms back around her waist and held on tight, letting her soak up his livelihood and soaking up hers as well. "Well, that one's sort of a given, isn't it?"

A wave of warmth washed over Lily at the words. It was precisely what she'd needed to hear, that James was there and he wouldn't leave her there alone. She knew he wouldn't, but she was so broken and hurt and she needed to hear it. She couldn't be alone. Her father was dead, and she'd lost her sister years ago, really. And now…

"Mum's leaving," Lily said, recalling the letter that had come with the record player. "She's going to travel – France, Spain, Brazil, loads of places, that's what her letter said. I don't think I'll see her again, not for awhile, at least."

"Oh." James wasn't sure what to say to that.

Lily recognized his hesitancy and smiled a little; that was normal, she thought, and normal was good. "I don't think she can stay in the house by herself anymore, not without Dad," she went on so that James didn't have to struggle for something to say. "I think it's worse for her than it is for me or Petunia."

"You think so?" James asked, feeling increasingly stupid over his inability to be more comforting, more eloquent, more _anything_.

"Yeah. I've thought about it before, and I just figured…" Lily took a deep breath as she considered this. She had thought about it, more recently, in the face of the social tension within Hogwarts and the looming pressures of the war outside of it. It seemed that everyone was marked to lose, and Lily couldn't keep herself from thinking about everything – everyone – that could be taken away from her. "Well, like I told you a few days ago, I don't know what I'd do without you. So I think it's like that."

James pulled her closer against him, so that her body was molded into his and he could feel every last curve, so that his senses filled up with her scent, her feel, everything, and he whispered, "You're not going to have to find out. You're not going to do anything without me anymore. I don't want to ever make you feel like I won't be there."

Lily nodded. "Same goes for me, you know," she said, her heart aching with a combination of grief and love and a burning desire to fight for the things she couldn't afford to lose. "I'm going to drag you around everywhere. No getting away from me."

"As if I'd want to do something like that." James scooted down the mattress until he was eye-level with her. He smiled softly as he looked at her: Lily's eyes were so bright with the tears that were overcoming her, her face was splotchy and damp, and her lips were dry. James pushed the hair back from her overheated face and kissed those cracked lips slowly and unhurriedly, the sort of kiss they hadn't shared in awhile since they'd been so wound-up lately.

But just then James didn't want to rush anything. He wanted to take it slow, to show Lily that he had all the time in the world for just her, that she wasn't alone. He tried to convey love through his lips on hers, one hand in her hair and the other at her waist. He hoped that she knew, prayed that she'd say she loved him, too, because he knew that sooner or later he was going to have to spit it out. And sooner was getting closer every day.

* * *

**A/N: **_Ugh, Quidditch is hard; I couldn't bring myself to write a whole match like usual, considering everything else that went on in this chapter. Forgive me? I'll write a little bit of another one sometime, plus you'll see a really excellent match later in the fic – I solemnly swear, it will not disappoint._ _You'll get more Marlene as commentator, and I'm going to throw Lily in the booth with her for good measure, and the last match I write will end with a huge big incredible lovely to-do. So there._

_See you in_ Chapter 7: How to Shag Your Boyfriend _– Hogsmeade, Charlus and Dorea, Andromeda, and some way overdue bonding. ;D –K. _


	7. How to Shag Your Boyfriend

**Friday, 11:00 P.M.**

It was rare for Alice Prewett to argue with anyone, and it was rare for James Potter to come off worse in most arguments. So when the pair was to be found having a row in the common room late one night and Alice was most certainly winning, well, the whole thing had quite a surreal feel to it. Sirius and Marlene sat on the couch in front of them, their eyes darting back and forth as they attempted to follow the ebb and flow of the row.

"Come on, Alice, let me take her –" James said.

"No," Alice said again, not caring to hear any excuses or justifications. "No no no no no no no, James Potter, you great prat. You get her all the time and she needs to spend time with us, too. We haven't done anything together in ages, we've all been so busy, and this is about my _wedding_, you selfish git."

"I'm not being _selfish_," James said, affronted. "I just want to make her feel better."

Alice snorted. "Oh, and you think that me and Marlene can't do that?" she wanted to know. "Because _excuse me_, but we were doing it for years, and half the time we had to make her feel better about _you_ because you're such a twat –"

"Alice!" James was shocked at such language from the mouth of sweet-tempered Alice Prewett.

"James!" Alice stomped her foot, reminding the assembled group of Lily's temper tantrums. "I know she's upset about her dad and I know you want to make her feel better. But she can't just rely on you; she's got us, too. Even if this hadn't happened, guess what –" Alice jabbed James hard in the chest – "I _still_ wouldn't let you take her to Hogsmeade tomorrow. I told Lily and Marlene _months_ ago that we were going for the dress fittings, so you can just stuff it."

James looked helplessly at their friends on the couch. "McKinnon –"

"Oooh, no." Marlene lifted her hands and waved them around a bit to get the spotlight off her. "Don't you drag me into this."

"Damn it." James ruffled up the back of his hair. He knew Alice was right and he was being fantastically unfair; this was about her wedding, after all, and he couldn't hoard Lily's time and attention like this. But all the same, James Potter was not accustomed to losing, and he wasn't exactly fond of the sensation.

Alice crossed her arms and glowered at him. "If you muck up my wedding plans, Potter, I promise you that I'll _destroy_ yours."

"What the hell?" James said over Sirius's laughter, taken aback at the malice in her voice. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't think you want to find out," Alice said, winging it. She knew she wouldn't do anything, but it was important to scare James into thinking she would. "You can relinquish Lily to me and Mar for one afternoon, you stupid tosser."

"All right!" James threw his hands uselessly into the air. "For Merlin's sake, have you been taking name-calling lessons from Lily or what? 'Kick him right in the crotch of his pride, then he'll give you what you want' – is that what she told you? Because that seems like a pretty succinct summary, honestly."

Sirius threw a pillow at him. "Lighten up, mate," he said. "You've been going out for how long and you're still sensitive?"

"_No."_ James whipped the pillow back at him so that Sirius got a face-full of feathery softness. "I just feel a bit sorry for Frank, is all."

Alice laughed and shook her head, flopping back into an armchair. "Shut up, James."

James simply echoed her laugh and relented. If Alice Prewett was willing to get into a row about something, chances were she was right. Besides, James didn't fancy having his hair burned off like Bellatrix Black last year, and he wasn't convinced that Alice wouldn't stoop to that level if he kept egging her on.

Anyway, James would have plenty to occupy his Lily-less afternoon. His parents had written to tell him that they'd be in the village for a short visit, and while James was sure that there was some more menacing, war-related reason for Charlus to be at Hogwarts, he was looking forward to seeing them. Andromeda had written to Sirius as well, letting him know that she'd be in Hogsmeade with the newest Black family reject, Nymphadora. He and Sirius had shared a good laugh over Andromeda's questionable taste in names, but then Remus had lightly pointed out a few other Black names – Walburga, Arcturus, Cygnus, even Sirius wasn't exactly run-of-the-mill – and that had successfully shut the pair of them up.

So it wasn't as if James would be wandering around the village in a state of confused abandonment, he reminded himself. He could spare an afternoon if it meant giving Lily some much-needed time with her friends, and he could use some time with just the Marauders as well. James told himself not to worry – it was just Hogsmeade, and it wasn't like Lily would be by herself. It was difficult, though, considering Lily's history, and James wasn't sure what he'd do if she came back to him in anything less than perfect shape. Her injuries from the previous week had faded, and James wasn't eager for anymore to appear, not if he could help it, and he'd promised himself that he most certainly _would_ help it.

He sighed and looked at Alice, who was proof that big things came in small packages, and Marlene, who – well, to be quite honest, you'd be completely daft to pick a fight with her, James had to admit. He knew they could take care of Lily just as well as he could, just as well as she could take care of herself, but he was sick with worry about her, anyway.

It was exceedingly difficult, James thought on another sigh, to be in love with someone. All the same, though, a smile touched his lips and he couldn't quite find it in his heart to regret it.

* * *

"Peter asked Dorcas to go to Hogsmeade with him."

"What?" Lily turned to look at Remus so quickly that her neck cracked. She rubbed it and took in Remus's somber expression as they continued down the corridor on their rounds. "What – how? When? _What?_"

Remus laughed a little but there wasn't much humor to it. "Right before dinner. He stopped off in the library to drop off a book and she was there and, well, I suppose he took the advice you gave me."

"Oh." Lily dropped her hand back down to her side. "She – what did she say?"

"She turned him down," Remus said. "He said she was really nice about it, said she just had a lot of homework to catch up on so she was skipping Hogsmeade altogether."

Lily pressed her lips together, thinking before she said anything else. It was a valid excuse, a fair justification, she mused, but was it the truth? That was important. If Dorcas said no because she really was busy, or if she said no because she really didn't want to go with Peter… It made a difference. But then Lily wondered how much of a difference; even if Dorcas wasn't interested in Peter, it was clear that he fancied her, and that would probably be enough for Remus to throw in a towel he hadn't even used yet.

"I'm not really sure what to do," Remus admitted as the silence continued to hang in the air. "It was difficult enough, but now…" He shook his head. "I dunno."

"Don't give up!" Lily protested. "You haven't even tried yet – you can't give up if you haven't tried. It defies logic, and _I won't let you do that_, Remus Lupin."

Remus lifted an eyebrow at the threatening finger Lily was wagging at him. "What do you suggest, then?" he asked. "Because I can't change Peter's feelings, and that's why I'm thinking I should defy logic in the first place."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but…" Lily tugged a bit on the ends of her hair. "Perhaps you should take a leaf out of James's book, with the whole not-giving-up thing. Worked out rather well for him, I think."

"His narcissism is rubbing off on you, isn't it?"

"Oh, shut it." Lily punched him playfully on the arm. "Seriously, though. I know you're worried about Peter, but I don't want you to write off Dorcas so quickly. You don't have to ask her out or drag her into a broom cupboard or anything just yet, but you're still allowed to _talk_ to her. You said so yourself, you don't know her; you're allowed to get to know someone. I mean, you and I were friends before James and I were anything and he didn't get mad at you, did he?"

Remus thought about that and shrugged. "I think it annoyed him a little bit, once he started to fancy you," he admitted. "He never _said_ anything, but sometimes I think he wanted to punch me in the face."

"He's so stupid," Lily laughed. It was nice to laugh, she thought; she hadn't been doing enough of it lately, not between last Monday night and her father's death. She knew this momentary lapse into normalcy wouldn't last, that she'd be crying herself to sleep again within the hour, but for right now it was good, anyway.

"I can't argue with that." Remus smiled, thinking it was good for Lily to take a little enjoyment out of something in light of recent events. "But maybe you've got a point. I just – I feel bad about it, somehow."

"That would be because you're an exceedingly, unheard of good person, Remus," Lily said matter-of-factly. She rubbed a comforting hand down his arm. "Don't worry so much, yeah? We'll figure something out."

Filled to the brim with appreciation, guilt, trepidation, and those unfamiliar stirrings of butterflies that had been so dormant within him for so long, Remus could only nod and let the topic drop for the time being.

* * *

Lily was right where she knew she'd be, lying on her stomach in bed, James sitting cross-legged next to her, rubbing her back. She was crying again, like she knew she'd be doing – a slow, silent stream of tears creeping its way down her face. She sniffled a few times and James's hands would run down her spine, murmuring comforting words in the darkness. Caught up in thoughts of her father and the feel of James's hands on her back, she wasn't entirely sure what he was saying but the words were soothing, anyway.

Half an hour went by like this and then Lily's spine was shaking, her chest hitching, and she was giggling through the tears when she said, "I can't believe Alice shouted at you like that."

"It's not _funny_, Evans," James said, trying to sound wounded but unable to keep the low chuckle out of his voice. He continued worked his fingers along her back. "Alice is _mean_. I haven't felt this awful since you punched me in the face fifth year."

"I never punched you in the face –"

"Well, by my face, I meant my heart," James corrected himself, causing Lily to release a peal of uncontrollable giggles. He smiled broadly; he loved that sound.

Lily flipped around, throwing her arms around James's neck and pulling him in close for a kiss. She took a long, heady pull of his lips, reveling in the feel of his palms as they traced along her sides, his thumbs tugging at the loose material of her T-shirt.

"I'm sorry I punched you in the heart," Lily whispered against his mouth when they pulled apart, just enough to talk. Her eyes were still damp but she was smiling; James couldn't see it in the darkness but he could feel the shape of her lips turn up against his, and that was enough.

James nuzzled his nose against hers. "That's quite all right, love," he whispered back. "You've patched it up nicely. I can't even tell anymore…" And then he softened Lily's laughter with his lips once more.

Remus wasn't sleeping. He was staring at the ceiling, thinking about the conversation he'd had with Lily and wondering what to do. He could talk to Dorcas and potentially hurt Peter, or he could not talk to her and most likely hurt himself. He wasn't sure if the opportunity cost was something he was willing to bargain, but then he was even less sure that it was something he could afford _not_ to bargain.

And when he heard the muffled laughter from the bed next to his, the murmured words and the slow exhalations of breath, the unmistakable sounds of two people kissing and touching and soaking up how happy they made each other, Remus couldn't bring himself to lie in bed anymore. He couldn't deal with it and he hardly knew why, but he kicked off his covers, shrugged into a sweater, and slipped on his shoes. He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving Lily and James to each other. He loved them both and he was happy for them, but that didn't mean he could fall asleep to the two of them together. It only made him feel lonely, and suddenly being alone felt very wrong.

It was, Remus decided the next morning, the most exhausting night he'd had in a long time. It was enough to make him wish for the distraction of a full moon, and that train of thought couldn't mean anything good. It seemed that Dorcas Meadowes was going to prove to be much more relevant than some furry little problem.

* * *

**Saturday, 12:42 P.M.**

Charlus and James walked along the busy Hogsmeade road, having left the others – the Marauders, Dorea, Andromeda and her new baby, and Frank Longbottom (who had pointedly not told Alice he was visiting in order to surprise her) – behind in the Three Broomsticks. The Potter men wouldn't be missed terribly, as the others were busy talking, drinking, and laughing as Sirius and Andromeda bickered about how ugly the latter's daughter was. (Sirius made the point that as a Metamorphmagus, at least Nymphadora could alter that fact; Andromeda had smacked him and told him that this is just what babies looked like and it was too bad he hadn't grown into his own looks.)

After nearly an hour of fidgeting in his seat and obsessively spinning his butterbeer cork, though, James couldn't take anymore. He knew there was a reason his parents and Frank were in Hogsmeade, and he was a bundle of nerves over it. He was frustrated, wound-up, and sick at the thought of anything happening that could adversely affect Lily. It seemed that everything would have such an effect on her these days, and James couldn't bear not knowing the specifics. The more he knew, the better he could protect her, and he was too paranoid to care that she didn't need him playing the hero. It wasn't about that anymore; it was _bigger_ than that.

So after several furtive, meaningful looks in his father's direction, James had finally gotten through to Charlus. After a hurried, whispered exchange with Dorea, Charlus had excused himself and James had followed him through the bar and outside. The pair had walked in silence for a bit but James was so close to bursting that he couldn't help himself for long.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" James turned to fix his father with a serious look. "Really."

Charlus met his son's eye, wondering how much to tell him, then sighed heavily. He saw that look in James's eye – the fire, the determination, the look that said he wasn't kidding around. That sort of seriousness was so unlike his carefree, happy-go-lucky son, and it nearly broke Charlus's heart to know that eventually that look wouldn't fade from James's eyes, not once he started fighting, not by the time the war was over. There was too much to do, to see… No-strings-attached happiness was becoming such a novelty these days.

"Moody and I have a report for Dumbledore. Longbottom's here to report as well, but he's a bit happier since he hasn't seen Alice in a month or so," Charlus told him, knowing that he couldn't lie; James wasn't a little boy anymore. "Anyway, it's not good news, unfortunately. Things are getting worse."

"Like how?"

"Like how war tends to make things worse. That's all you're getting out of me for right now, James. I know how you are," Charlus said. He might not be able to lie, but that didn't mean James had to be given a reason to go looking for trouble. "Six years' worth of disciplinary notes have proven that you don't take any rivalry lightly, and now things have gotten personal. I know what you're like with Lily, and she's a target."

"So am I," James said hotly. "So's Sirius, Remus, Peter, you, Mum, Moody, Dumbledore –"

"And we still have an advantage. Nobody's going to think twice about Lily."

"I will." James's voice was set, fierce, and more life-or-death sober than Charlus had ever heard it. He felt his aging heart break a little more.

Charlus shook his head sadly. "You're a better man than the rest of them. Voldemort's going to try to 'reason' with all the purebloods and the half-bloods; he doesn't want to spill magical blood. But he's not going to bother so much when it comes to Muggle-borns, no matter how magical they really are. Yes, the blood traitors are on his list, but he'll bargain for us. He'd kill Lily on the spot."

James's shoulders slumped, his heart fell, his head thudded under the pressure, and he didn't know what to do with any of it. "Thanks, Dad. That's reassuring."

Charlus released another heavy sigh and clapped a hand on one of James's slouched shoulders. "I'm sorry, son," he said, meaning it more than he'd ever meant anything, "but we don't have a whole lot of time for reassurance."

"Yeah." James nodded, his throat tightening. "Dad, I – I know you're not, but I need you to not sugarcoat things for me anymore, ever again. No matter what it is, you've got to tell me straight, okay?"

"Of course." Charlus fixed his son with a curious look. He'd become more accustomed to this serious side of James over the past year or so, but there was something in the younger man's voice now that caught his attention. It was determined yet desperate, unyielding yet hopeless, and suddenly Charlus didn't want to hold anything back, no matter how much trouble James might go looking for. "What's this about, James?"

"I –" James swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed his hands through his hair. "None of us ever know how bad it really is. We get the _Prophet_, we deal with the rubbish at school, but I still don't think it's clicking. And I can't afford to not know. This isn't just about me, either," he was quick to add, just in case his father got the impression that James just wanted to get in on the action for the thrill of it. "It's about my friends, you know, it's about Lily. It's mostly about Lily. I need to know what I'm supposed to be protecting her from."

"James…" Charlus shook his head again, released yet another sigh. He was exhausted and he wished things were different for his son. He wished James and his friends weren't set out for a war-torn world out of which little good could come. "You can't protect her from everything."

They walked on for a bit longer in silence, and then James really couldn't take it anymore. He was so frustrated – the past month seemed to have brought him nothing but frustration – and he kicked violently against the dirt road, wishing desperately for a nearby wall that he could break his knuckles against.

"I know I can't," he said, his voice hot and broken and lost. "I know I might not be able to save her, and you have _no idea_ what that does to me, Dad. But she keeps getting hurt and we haven't even left Hogwarts yet and I'm never there when it's happening. She's always saving herself, or it's someone else who gets there in time, and all I want is for her to be okay but _it kills me_ to know that I wasn't there, that I didn't do anything about it. But I swear, I'm not going to let that happen when we're fighting – I can't. I can't lose her, I can't know that I wasn't there to do something to keep her from getting hurt. And I'm worried about my friends too – Merlin, I am – but you're right: They've got a better shot, and for some reason that's enough to make me feel okay. But Lily – God, there is _nothing_ that's going to make me feel okay."

"James. Calm down." They'd stopped walking, and Charlus put his hands on his son's shaking shoulders. When James's eyes had stopped flickering around in a panic and met his father's, Charlus spoke again, just as calm and collected as James was broken. "First of all, I know exactly how you feel. I'm expected to save the Wizarding world to some extent – all of the Aurors are – and I don't even know that I can keep my own family safe. I'm not going to tell you that it's all going to be all right; it's useless and you wouldn't believe me, anyway."

James nodded, the lump in his throat back. He had no idea why his eyes were so damp or when they'd gotten that way. He knew _why_ – he always knew why – but when exactly he'd lost control was beyond him.

"Dad, what if she dies?" he asked, his voice choked and imploring his father to make it better the way parents were supposed to.

"I'm sorry, son," Charlus said again, and he pulled James into a strong embrace. He felt his son's spine shudder violently._ When had this happened?_ he wondered. _When had James grown up before he was supposed to?_ "I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you not to worry, but I've been working with Moody for too long to believe that myself."

James didn't say anything and Charlus didn't expect him to. They stood at the end of the street, James still shaking, Charlus still wishing he could fix the things that were wrong. After another minute or two, he saw Dorea coming up the street towards them; he caught her eye and shook his head an infinitesimal amount. She stopped short and took in the scene, and Charlus saw the heartache flit across his wife's face. All three of them were still, quiet, all silently wondering when exactly this would end.

"Come on, James," Charlus said after a moment, pulling away and nodding towards Dorea, who took the hint and continued on her way towards them. "Your mother and I have some things to talk to you about."

* * *

The dress shop was becoming almost uncomfortably warm, and Lily found herself half-wishing that the proprietor would quit giving them so much "celebratory champagne." She didn't think it was fitting for the Head Girl to get sloshed on a Hogsmeade visit, and she didn't think she could bear James's smug smirk or Sirius's taunts – good-natured as they may be – when they undoubtedly found out.

Marlene, on the other hand, was wishing no such thing. She shot Lily a wicked grin to rival that of Sirius's and asked far too casually, "So, Lil… Shagged your boyfriend yet?"

Lily scowled as she zipped up one of the dresses Alice wanted them to try. "Damn it, Marlene."

"Don't you two start!" Alice's tinkling voice floated out from behind a curtain. "I don't need my bridesmaids clawing each others' eyes out before my wedding."

"Too much champagne makes you dramatic!" Marlene called back before she looked at Lily again. "Anyway, I'm only curious."

"Yeah, well, shove it," Lily growled at her.

Marlene just went on grinning with the distinct air of the-cat-who-swallowed-the-canary. She was sitting sprawled out on the floor, dressed in violet silk that wasn't buttoned properly in the back, and toying with the stem of her glass. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That's the last time I give you a Muggle book on Shakespeare for your birthday. Talk about a misquote."

"I don't know why you gave her that book in the first place," Alice said as she came out from behind the curtain. "That whole 'beast with two backs' thing has really gotten to her, if you ask me…"

"Oh, _Alice_…" Lily smiled at her friend, who was now checking her reflection in the three-way mirror. The dress she wore was long, laced at the top and beaded down the skirt, utterly simple and completely perfect. "You look – Merlin, you look so gorgeous."

"Watch it, Evans," Marlene said with a laugh, but her eyes were just as glazed with adoration as she looked at Alice. "Don't want to give Frank any reason to worry, now, do you?"

Alice beamed at them. "You like this one, then? Because I do, I really do."

The other girls nodded vigorously in answer to her question. Satisfied, Alice settled down onto the floor, the skirt of her dress fanning around her. She sipped at her champagne and said, "All right, so we were talking about Lily shagging her boyfriend, then?"

Lily groaned. "Not you, too."

"Sorry." Alice sent her a not-so-apologetic smile. She wanted things to settle back into normalcy for Lily, at least for a little while; they wouldn't have that luxury once they were out of Hogwarts, and Alice thought it was best to soak it up while they could. "I'm a nearly married woman, love; indulge me."

"Oh, please," Lily scoffed. "_Nearly married woman_… Why don't we talk about you and Frank, then?"

"Because nobody wants to talk about nearly-married people," Alice pointed out. "We want to talk about the stubborn young couple who takes ages to admit anything to each other. It's exciting."

Lily picked at the hem of her skirt to avoid looking at her friends head-on. "You and Frank took ages, too, you know."

"Oh, I know." Alice and Marlene exchanged a smirk, perfectly aware of how accurate the former's assessment of Lily and James had been. "The thing is, though, that by the time we got together, it only took us a couple of days to admit things like 'I love you,' and just a few minutes to figure out that we were getting married."

"Well, bully for you." Lily flopped down on the floor with them and stuck her tongue out. She then proceeded to down half her champagne in one go because thinking about making love to James was nerve-wracking, to say the least.

Marlene poked her friend's knee playfully. "You _want_ to, don't you?" she said pompously. "I can tell."

"Yeah, I – well, of course I want to," Lily said to the floor, her face reddening to clash with her hair. "I just… We've gotten close – I told you about last week, after the prefects' meeting –"

"Yeah, you did." That grin was still plastered across Marlene's face, accompanied by a wicked twinkle in her eye.

"Shut up, Mar." Lily threw a shoe at her and Marlene laughed. "So we get close, and then we don't, and then I think that maybe that's good because – and maybe this is going to sound silly – but I want to tell him that I –"

"Whoa." Marlene held up her hands and waved them around wildly. "_Whoa._ Stop right there. I know what you're gonna say, and don't use it as an excuse. You've been fooling around with him for, what, ten months now? And you haven't said 'I love you'?"

Lily shot her a look, torn between slight annoyance and wondering how the hell Marlene had figured out what she was going to say. "Have you and Sirius?"

"No, but that's me and Sirius." One of Marlene's hands waved Lily's question away, and then she was pointing an accusatory finger at her. "This is you and James, and that is just so _different_."

"It's a big deal, all right?" Lily picked at a spot on the carpet before turning her imploring gaze on Alice. "I mean, back me up here, Alice. You _cried_ when Frank told you."

Alice tilted her head towards Marlene, demonstrating a sort of concession, and she said, "She's right, Marlene."

"Okay, sure, fine, it's a big deal." Marlene's hands occupied themselves with her champagne glass. She sipped and then she was off again. "But you do love him, Lil, and let's be honest, we all know he loves you, too. So just say it. The sexual tension is torturous, and it's getting to both of you in a big way. I'm surprised you two haven't had some huge row because you're so wound-up. I mean, the frustration's got to manifest somehow, hasn't it?"

"Er…" Lily bit her lip. Was that what was supposed to be happening? she wondered privately. Was it bad that it was quite the opposite of that? Or was she just over-thinking the whole thing? "We haven't fought at all, actually."

There was a short bout of silence then, in which Marlene's eyes widened and she shook her head and had to fight back a laugh.

"Oh, no," she said, chuckling despite her best efforts. "Oh no, oh no, oh no…"

"What?" Lily jabbed her friend in the side, really worried now. "Marlene, what is it? You're freaking me out."

"_I'm_ freaking you out?" Marlene shot her a somewhat pitying look and ruffled her hair affectionately. "I'll tell you what, sweetheart: I know you and James, separately and together, and you're going to freak out on each other, you just wait. You're going to shout for hours and next thing you know, you'll be shagging. Alice, I bet you five Galleons that's what happens."

"Marlene, I'm not betting you." Alice shook her head and rose from her seat. She didn't think it was advisable to roll around the floor in what would soon become her wedding dress. "That's sick."

Marlene shrugged disconcertedly. "Fine. I can get Sirius to do it."

"Bet you could get Sirius to do a lot of things, couldn't you?" Alice said, giggling madly as she ducked behind the curtain to change.

Lily and Marlene joined her laughter, shaking their heads; but despite her external elation, Lily couldn't help but worry still and after another moment she couldn't contain it anymore.

"So, does it –" She twisted a lock of hair around her finger and tugged on it. "Does it hurt, the first time? Or any of the subsequent times, really, I'm just… you know, I want to know what I'm getting myself into whenever we get there."

"Honestly?" Marlene swirled the pale gold liquid around in her glass. "It depends. Expect it, though, because generally speaking, it does – you know, it twinges a bit. But it's not as if you and James haven't done _anything_, and that helps. Trust me, though, Lil, after that insignificant flash of pain…" A sappy smile crept its way across Marlene's mouth. "It's so worth it."

"Seconded!" Alice called from behind the curtain. She stuck her head out momentarily to look at Lily. "Really, it's quite nice."

A burst of laughter escaped Lily's throat and Marlene said, "That's the most proper description of shagging I've ever head – _quite nice_. In fact, 'quite nice' sounds rather terrible, if you want my opinion."

"Yes, well, she's _nearly married_, remember," Lily said, trying and failing to sound serious as another giggle fled from between her lips. Alice told them both to shut it and disappeared behind the curtain again, and that only served to intensify her friends' sniggers.

When they had subsided enough for Marlene to talk, she wiped a few mirthful tears from her eyes and teased, "If you're gonna do this, you need sexy knickers."

"Would you _shut up_?" Lily groaned and buried her once-again-reddening face in her hands.

"I mean it, though!" Marlene threw the shoe Lily had hit her with at the curtain to get Alice's attention. "Alice, what'd you wear the first time you shagged Frank?"

"Ah, well, Mar, that would be _nothing_." The others could practically hear the impish little grin in her voice. "Surely I don't have to explain the finer points of shagging to you?"

"You're so _saucy_."

Before any of them could comment further, the bell over the door tinkled merrily and a cool rush of wind swept into the shop. Lily and Marlene turned to see the Marauders, accompanied by an unexpected Frank Longbottom, who pressed a finger to his grinning lips. Marlene grinned conspiratorially and Lily winked, but her smile faltered when her gaze fell on James. He looked pale, she noticed, his eyes were red, and the smile he sent her was weak. He looked tired, drained, defeated, and Lily didn't like it one bit. But before she could say anything to him, Sirius wolf-whistled.

"Those are _some_ dresses you've picked out, Prewett," he said appreciatively, figuring that she had to be around somewhere to hear him. "What'd be the proper way to thank you? Kissing your feet, erecting a statue in your honor, whatever it is, I'll oblige."

Alice's laugh once again sounded from behind the curtain, and Frank took the opportunity to sidle up next to it, waiting for an appropriate time to rip the material aside and surprise his fiancée.

"Those are lovely sentiments, Sirius, really," Alice said, totally unaware of any tomfoolery. "Tell you what, you can throw down a few Galleons for the wedding, hmm? Frank's mum insists on the most lavish things, bless her and all that, but it's so _expensive_ –"

"Hey!" Frank piped up without thinking. "She only wants you to have a nice wedding, Alice, and she's paying for most of it herself –"

Most of Frank's words were, however, drowned out by the sound of Alice's shriek. She tore the curtain open, face flushed and eyes wide, and screamed again. Everyone laughed and Frank grinned sheepishly down at her.

"Surprised to see me?" he said. "Should've kept my mouth shut. I really spoiled that, didn't I?"

Alice, however, didn't seem to think so. At least, she didn't care, as she leapt into Frank's arms, her own winding around his neck, and then they were snogging rather fiercely right in the middle of the dress shop.

"Well, if that's how things are going…" Sirius raised his eyebrows and looked at Marlene. "You need help getting out of that dress?"

"Merlin, Padfoot, keep it in your pants for five minutes, will you?" Peter said.

Lily excused herself while the others continued laughing, wanting to get out of the bridesmaid dress. She ducked into the next dressing-room and was struggling with the zipper when she heard the curtain rustle and she turned to see James adjusting the material until it was back in place. He was still pale and his hands were shaking as they toyed with the curtain.

"Is everything all right?" Lily asked, her voice quiet with concern. James didn't answer and Lily closed the short stretch of space between them, taking one of his hands in hers and feeling its continued shudder. "James, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied so obviously that even he wondered why he bothered.

"You're shaking."

James sighed unsteadily and ran his free hand through his hair, drinking in the sight of the girl in front of him. He'd spent the last half an hour with his parents, getting his questions answered and his worst fears confirmed. He'd known all along that it was dangerous outside the walls of Hogwarts, knew that he and his friends had put themselves right in the thick of things by so openly opposing everything that Voldemort stood for. He knew the risks and he was willing to take them. He knew that Lily was in more trouble than the rest of them; he knew it would only take her being on the right end of the wrong wand to cut her life too short. But all the same, James couldn't believe that Lily – Lily, who was standing in front of him, holding his hand, so very vibrant and alive and _there_ – was so horrendously marked for death, all because there was some insignificant difference running through her veins. Everything about her was so perfect, so human, so right, and James couldn't wrap his head around the danger she was in. It made him feel so physically ill to think about losing her, to think about how hurt she could get, and he wanted to tell her but he couldn't because everything suddenly felt like too much.

"It's nothing, Lily, please… just…" James slipped his hand from hers so he could wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into him. He buried his face in the slope of her neck, inhaling her scent and murmuring into her skin. "You're so beautiful. I mean that. Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course I will." Lily brushed comforting fingers through his hair. "Even if it is just my good looks you want."

"It's not. I'm sorry. You're –"

"James, love, I was just kidding. Tell me what's wrong."

"I just saw my parents, that's all. Talked to them about things, and..." James released another shaky breath and tightened his hold on Lily's waist. Letting her go was never going to be an option. "I'm worried."

"Oh." Lily didn't have to ask what exactly he was worried about, and after the general good nature of her day so far, she didn't fancy talking about it. She thought that was perhaps a bit selfish, but she couldn't help it just then.

"Yeah." James lifted his head to look at her. He took in her bright eyes, flushed face, overly warm skin, but it took him a few seconds to register the empty champagne glass that sat near her feet. "Lily, I – hold on. Are you… Lily, are you drunk?"

"Pfft." Lily swayed a bit but tried to laugh it off. "No."

James cocked an eyebrow, his heart lifting a bit with it. "Are you sure about that?" he asked, amused. "Because you're just about sweating champagne here – ouch!" James's expression turned from one of amusement to reproach when Lily pinched him. "What was that for?"

"I'm not _sweating_," Lily said. She _knew_ James was going to be like this as soon as he found out she'd been drinking.

"Oh, well, we could change that –" James grinned at her, feeling marginally better than he had when he walked into the shop, and he was determined to hold onto it. "I quite like you in this dress but I'm not opposed to ripping it off."

"Don't even start," Lily said on a laugh that she couldn't help.

"Yeah, seriously, don't start," implored a voice they recognized as Sirius's on the other side of the curtain. "Wrap it up, you two. Frank and Alice have managed to disentangle themselves for about a minute and we want to go to dinner."

"Yeah, yeah." James planted a swift kiss to Lily's champagne-tinted lips and left her to get dressed back into her normal clothes, thinking that for now, at least, he could be happy that she was there to take his hand and kiss him back. Despite what he now knew without a doubt – that Lily's threat was so much more palpable and ever-present than the rest of theirs – James was sure to keep everything else at the forefront of his mind. Her eyes, her smile, her touch, that was all there and it was all good and it was a much better motivation than the hatred he felt for everyone who wanted to dim that light she exuded, everyone who wanted to take that away from him. For right now, Lily was still taking his hand and kissing him back, and keeping that in mind, James was determined to make sure it stayed that way.

* * *

**8:16 P.M.**

"I think they forgot the Silencing charm…"

"Oh, yeah?" James gritted his teeth and stared determinedly up at his canopy, itching to hex his inconsiderate best mate. "Because I thought it was just happening inside my head."

"What do we _do_?" Lily said, shaking with all of her suppressed giggles.

"Come over here and distract me."

"I'm not shagging you."

"Merlin, no." James recoiled at the prospect of his first time with Lily happening while Sirius and Marlene were so clearly going at it in the next bed. "I don't want to shag you when they're doing it right over there."

"What do you want to do, then?"

"Come over here and talk to me."

"I can't." Lily buried her face in the pillow, trying to drown out the noise and stifle her own laughter. "I can't do anything. They're so _loud_."

"I know." James groaned as if he were in physical pain. "D'you think we're that loud?"

"James, I don't think a _banshee's _that loud."

"Good point. Let's go do something." James rolled off the bed and hopped up, holding out a gallant hand for Lily to take. "Kitchens?"

"Please." Lily took his hand and allowed him to pull her up from his mattress.

The pair made their way out of the dormitory, not caring how loud they were in their haste since their friends were so obviously unconcerned with tedious things like volume and common decency. Lily didn't bother holding her laughter in as soon as they reached the common room; it was just so nice to laugh, and so wonderful that so many laugh-worthy things had happened in one day. She wasn't sure how much longer that sort of thing would last, and she wanted to cherish it.

They walked on in companionable silence, strolling through the empty corridors. In their hurry to put a healthy amount of space between themselves and the boys' dorm, James had neglected to grab the map or the Cloak. He wasn't terribly concerned, though; he knew enough secret passages and shortcuts that they could duck into if need be, and anyway being Head students had to have its perks in the wandering-aimlessly-around-the-castle department.

Whether or not he was worried about such mundane things was, however, rather distant from James's mind at the moment. He was still buried in reminisces of the conversation he'd had with his parents that afternoon, of the way he'd been shaking ever since. It didn't matter how much he thought he knew before, because having his paranoia confirmed was so much worse; he couldn't convince himself that everything would be all right anymore.

He glanced over at Lily. One of her fingers was twisting obsessively through a bit of red hair that had escaped the confines of her ponytail, and James could just make out the faint scar on her neck from Bellatrix's curse last year. Sometimes he forgot it was there at all, and it had been months since Lily had traced the mark with a despairing fingertip. She was chewing on the inside of her cheek and her brow was furrowed slightly. James wondered what she was thinking about and if it was akin to the thoughts running rampant through his own mind: _You love her. Tell her. Tell her right now. Right moment be damned. Now's a moment. Might as well take it._

James pushed a hand through his hair, wondering how to begin…

"Hey," he said, breaking their silence with the best segue he had, "d'you remember fifth year?"

Lily looked at him, cocking an eyebrow just like he'd done earlier, and said, "You remind me often enough."

"Not what I meant," James said with a smile. His heart skipped and thudded and skipped some more with the prospect of what he was about to do, what he was going to say. "Remember when we did Patronuses second term that year? Theory in Charms, practice in Defense?"

"Yeah…" Lily remembered the month of grueling joint periods. Flitwick and Lockhorne had really pushed their limits over those weeks, and many students speculated that strain was why Lockhorne had resigned at the end of the year. She knew where James was going with the reminiscence but she prodded onward, anyway. "Why?"

"Ours match," James said. He felt a warm glow explode somewhere in his chest as he remembered the first time he'd seen Lily's Patronus. "That's why I doubled my efforts with you – because I just _knew_. I mean, I know it's not a given or anything, but I knew we were – I dunno, compatible enough for this to work. Wish I could find a better way to phrase it," he admitted, "but you know what I mean. I was already wearing you down."

James purposefully left out the part where Snape's Patronus had matched Lily's exactly. It had been a source of much distress for him that year, just another seed in that senseless jealousy of his, and he didn't want to talk about it. Lily, however, hadn't put much store into that. She'd shrugged it off because she and Snape were supposedly best friends, they'd spent a lot of time together, they knew each other, and for some reason matching Patronuses had made sense. It was when she'd seen James's that she knew she was in trouble. Their Patronuses weren't identical, but rather they were _equals_, and that was much more disconcerting to a fifth-year Lily Evans who was trying very hard not to fancy a fifth-year James Potter. But seventh-year James hadn't brought up his old distress, so seventh-year Lily skirted around it, too.

"_Wearing me down_…" Lily shook her head. "Please. I already fancied you on my own, thanks. I just didn't want to go out with you because you were a git."

"I know that." James caught her hand in the middle of the staircase they were traipsing down. He hopped down a step so that Lily was on the one above him and they were eye-level. "And I'm so sorry, Lily, because I never wanted to make you hate me."

Lily took James's other hand and laced all of her fingers through all of his. "I never hated you. I hated the way you would act sometimes, that's all. You know that by now, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," James said, more or less honest but it didn't matter so much. She was with him now and he had more important things on his mind. He'd had the words in his head all day, shouting for release, and he had to do it. This deserted and inconspicuous staircase was as good as anywhere else to tell her how he felt. "Still, though, the way you'd look at me sometimes… I never wanted you to do that, either. I just – I wanted you, and I was a lot more discouraged than I let on. So when we cast our Patronuses… Merlin, I was so relieved. I thought I had a real chance then."

"Oh, James." Lily leaned forward a bit to press a kiss to his forehead. She'd known how he felt back then, but it was something else to hear him admit how difficult it had been with every rejection, no matter how much he might have deserved them.

"Don't feel bad," James said quickly. That was the last thing he wanted her to feel when he was so close to telling her what he'd been feeling ever since last New Year's. "Please don't. That's not why I'm telling you this. Lily, I've told you before and I mean it – I don't care when or how we happened. This is all I've ever wanted, you know, and I've got it; I don't have any room for complaints. I'm so happy. I am. You just – you're just kind of _wow_, right, and I –"

James knew he was babbling. He was teetering on the line between coherence and utter nonsense but he couldn't help it; his heart was skipping about so wildly that it hurt to breathe. Lily was looking at him so expectantly, waiting for him to trip over more words. James took a deep breath. He was going to do it, he had to do it, he had to do it right now; he'd made the moment as right as it could be and if he kept waiting he was sure to spoil it…

"Lily, I – oh, fucking hell." James felt his foot sink into the trick step he'd been standing on, engulfing him like he was caught in a mischievous bit of quicksand. _No no no no no. Bloody hell…_ He groaned impatiently with the sheer inopportunity of it all. "Not _now_."

"What?" Lily said, torn between concern and disappointment, for she'd been so sure that he was about to say what she was so ready to hear.

"Damn trick steps," James said. "My foot's stuck."

Despite the sinking feeling in her stomach, Lily had to chuckle at that. "Six-plus years at Hogwarts and you still can't skip over the trick steps?" she said, fixing him with a playfully disbelieving look.

"I was distracted by your radiance," James said, jaw set against the pain in his leg. "Help me out, will you?"

Lily released her hold on James's hands to grip his arms and help pull him out of the stair's hungry grasp. When he was free, James quickly jumped to the next step and Lily followed, still laughing at him as he kissed her and claimed that she was his hero. Both of them buried their annoyance that the trick step had stopped James from telling her how he felt, from whatever he'd been about to say.

Neither of them forgot about it, of course, but they didn't mention it again. They knew that they would, but for now they linked their hands back together and continued down to the kitchens, a little disappointed in trick steps and unfinished sentences.

* * *

Dorcas Meadowes sat in a secluded corner of the library, her nose buried in her homework, eyes tired against the dimming torchlight. She hadn't been lying to Peter Pettigrew when she'd turned him down for Hogsmeade – she really did have a lot of homework to catch up on. She'd wondered rather idly throughout the day if she would have used the excuse regardless. Pettigrew was nice and everything, but Dorcas didn't think that would be fair to anyone, not if Rita's suspicions and those damnable butterflies proved to be of any actual merit. If she did fancy Lupin, then –

"Hi."

Dorcas looked up, blinking in nervous surprise, her heart hammering and her mind muttering something about _speak of the devil_… "Hi."

Remus shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He had no idea what he was doing there. He'd been in the library, polishing up an essay because Sirius and Marlene were far too loud, James and Lily had run for cover to the kitchens, and Peter had said he needed some alone time and so he was scurrying around the grounds in his Animagus form. So that had left Remus, wandering around the library, looking for something to distract himself with now that his essay was finished, and he'd seen her – Dorcas Meadowes, sitting alone in a corner, and his feet had dragged him over there without his permission, propelled by the memory of Lily's tireless advice.

"You know who I am, yeah?" Remus blurted out. "Otherwise I'm going to feel right stupid…"

_Well, you're already looking rather stupid, aren't you, Moony old boy?_

"Remus Lupin," Dorcas said, wondering immediately afterwards if she should have feigned ignorance. But then that faint blush across Lupin's face seemed to indicate that he wasn't the type to play around with the hard-to-get game. "We've had double Potions together for two years. I know who you are. You lot destroyed my cauldron last year."

"Oh." Remus felt the heat continue to creep its way over his face. He was never pulling another prank ever again. "Oh. Shit. I'm –"

"You don't have to apologize," Dorcas said hurriedly. "Sorry. I mean, I know mine was an accident. At least, I think it was. Not like I hang 'round Narcissa and the rest of them."

"Yours was definitely an accident," Remus assured her, his chest relaxing a bit as he dodged that bullet. Besides, it would have been a shame if he really had to swear off pranks for good. "We – I – well, yeah. So what are you doing?"

"Oh – um, Transfiguration." Dorcas shuffled her parchment around for no real reason other than she had no idea what to do with herself with Remus standing there. "I don't really know what's happening here, to be honest, I've been at it for about two hours and I've got nothing. I'm this close to looking for a tutor…"

"James is good at Transfiguration."

Dorcas offered him a small smile as she thought of the way Potter had dismissed her right before the first edition of _The Skeeter Scoop_ had been released. "Yeah, well, I get the feeling that Potter's not my biggest fan."

"Oh." Remus was thinking the same thing. "Right. I s'pose…"

They were quiet for a minute, avoiding each other's gaze, before Dorcas took the next plunge and asked, "Are you any good at it? Transfiguration?"

Remus shrugged. "I'm all right."

"D'you want to give this a go, then?" Dorcas gestured to the chair across from her, inviting him to sit. She thought she'd be much less nervous if Remus Lupin would just sit down.

"I could." Remus glanced at the chair, back at Dorcas, and back to the chair again before he slid into it. He smiled a little bit, trying to relieve the tension that had claimed his entire body. "Just, you know, don't get cross with me if I lead you in the wrong direction."

"You don't seem like the type for anyone to get cross with."

_Maybe Peter would_, Remus thought, _if he knew I fancied you. Maybe James, if he knew I didn't hate you. Hell, maybe even your parents, if they knew you were sitting here with a werewolf. Maybe even you, if you knew what I really was._

"I'm sure some people could find a reason," Remus said, deciding that was an easier reply than all the things running through his head. Those things would never do him any good.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Dorcas said, and the pair exchanged a smile and a poorly hidden blush.

Remus knew he was supposed to be helping her with her Transfiguration, but now that he'd taken Lily's advice to heart, it was difficult to concentrate on schoolwork; he couldn't help but ask her questions. Dorcas was amendable to – grateful for, even – the change of topic from homework she couldn't even concentrate on while Remus Lupin was talking to her. It was much easier to pay attention to his questions and give him answers: She was a half-blood and her parents were keeping themselves out of the war, but Dorcas wanted to fight if she could. She'd gone off Bertie Bott's three years ago after an unpleasant experience with a moldy peanut flavor that had her breaking out in a rash (she was allergic to peanuts). She was an only child and after setting the cat's tail on fire when she was six, she wasn't allowed to have pets, either. She'd grown up next door to Rita Skeeter and she felt awful about what the _Scoop_ was saying about Lily. She twisted the feather of her quill around her finger when she was thinking (she didn't say this, but it was something Remus noticed). She took a lot of walks by herself and hurriedly muttered something about if he'd ever like to join her…

"Yeah," Remus said (perhaps too quickly, he would think later). "Yeah, I would."

"Okay." Dorcas blushed and she kept her eyes fixed on her books as she packed them away. She'd done enough for one night and she wasn't sure how much longer she could sit there, staring at Remus Lupin's ridiculously lovely hands. "Well then… I should go. But I'll, um, I'll look around for you the next time I go out."

"Okay." Remus nodded as Dorcas situated her bag over her shoulder and got ready to leave. "Yeah. I'll see you, then."

"Bye, Remus."

"Bye, Dorcas."

Remus watched her leave, weaving around tables, the torchlight reflected gold against her dark blonde hair. He thought about the past hour and silently thanked his feet for walking him over to Dorcas's table. He thought about the way the brown feather of her quill had twisted around the pale expanse of her ring finger. He thought of the way she'd laughed when he confessed that it was he and his friends who had provoked the glitter-vomit incident the year before, and he was so relieved to find out that she'd skipped breakfast that morning in favor of sleeping in.

He was just thinking about how expressive her bright eyes were when he was interrupted by another stray thought, and then he was thinking of Peter again and it was like a puncture wound pierced his otherwise inflated heart.

* * *

**A/N: **_Okay, so I feel like some of this chapter was a bit of a mess but oh my god, I DON'T CARE because I'd just had it with this thing and it needed to be done already. So I'm sorry if anything disappoints, but I was about to punch myself in the face. Anyway... _

_Much thanks to_ **stefanie437** _(Tumblr user_ **cupboard-underthe-stairs**_) for the Patronus prompt! I already mentioned in passing how they had complementary Patronuses in "All Right, Evans?" but I think it was a good thing for them to discuss – not to mention a great segue into the almost-I-love-you. Because I suuuuuck and I'm sorry but not really because someone recently pinpointed me as "the Moffat of fanfiction" and now I've really got to live up to that. Also (unrelated to the almost-I-love-you), I just have to say – Remus. Remus is perfect and I love him. That is all._

Chapter 8: First Last Only_ is on its slow and steady way! Peter reflects, Remus spends time with Dorcas, Lily and James fight, and Sirius and Marlene judge everyone. You'll like this one. Solemnly swear. ;D –K. _


	8. First Last Only

_Whenever I switch this many POVs in one chapter, I like to experiment with slightly different styles. So if anything seems strange or different, that's what it is. I did it on purpose. So. Ta-daaaaa._

* * *

**Peter**

Okay, so you have a crush on a girl. No big deal. You haven't really talked to her. But that's okay.

Peter tapped his quill against his parchment.

You at least asked her out. The offer's on the table. That's something.

He started tapping his fingers next.

She said no, but that's all right, too. She just had homework to do, that was all. Wasn't it? It had to be. Why would someone just make that up? Did girls do that sort of thing? Blast it, Sirius had been right when he said you don't know anything about birds…

Peter nudged his bottle of ink and spilled a little bit of it. He sighed and Vanished the mess and stared blankly at his parchment.

You can try again sometime. Don't get discouraged. Prongs never got discouraged, and look how that turned out for him. Sure, it's a bit dramatic at times – okay, maybe it's a lot dramatic a good number of times – but it's clear that Lily and James are deliriously happy. As long as they're within touching distance of each other, as long as they can keep an eye out for each other. Watching them, it's enough to make anybody feel lonely; it's enough to spur anyone to take proactive steps in their own love life.

Peter doodled across the surface of his essay.

That's why you asked Dorcas out in the first place. You wanted to get some control over your own happiness. Dorcas is pretty and smart and nice. Something could really happen there. If she's interested, anyway.

He released another sigh.

That's a long shot, isn't it?

Peter looked around the common room. James and Lily were off somewhere, Sirius and Marlene were lying on the couch in front of the fire, and Remus had disappeared at least an hour ago. Peter wondered where he'd gone off to. He tried to distract himself.

It sucks that she didn't say yes.

"_Lately, I've been going crazy  
Because I want you, baby, but you don't  
So get out, get out, get out, get out of my heart…"  
– Casey Abrams –_

* * *

**Remus**

It was early evening by the lake where Remus Lupin and Dorcas Meadowes sat, and the first turned to the second and said, "Can I ask you something?"

Dorcas turned to look at him. "Sure."

"I know that Peter asked you to last Hogsmeade," Remus said slowly. He wasn't sure why he was bringing this up but he couldn't help it. "And you turned him down because of your homework."

"Yeah…" Dorcas looked away towards the lake. The sun was setting beyond it, casting pink and gold and shadows over the surface of the water. "Well, I did. Have homework, I mean. I'd been in the library all day when you came by."

Remus nodded. "Okay."

There were a few beats of silence between them and then Dorcas said, "He's nice. Pettigrew. I just don't think anything's there, you know? I feel bad about that, but I don't want to pretend that I fancy him or anything, so I'm sort of glad I had that homework because I don't know how I would have turned him down otherwise. That makes me feel a little bad, too, but I can't _make_ myself interested."

Remus nodded some more.

"Why? Has he said anything about that?"

"No." Remus quit nodding to shake his head instead. "I mean, he told us that he asked you and that you said no – you were really nice about it, he said. He was okay with it. I was just wondering about it, that's all."

"Hmmm." Dorcas rubbed her lips together. "What'd Potter say about him asking me? I can't imagine he'd be too thrilled with any of his mates asking out a Slytherin."

Remus squirmed a bit. He wondered why she was asking. "James didn't really say anything about it," he said. "He might have said more if you'd said yes, but he's been a bit… preoccupied."

"With what?" Dorcas didn't really care; she just didn't want to endure another strained silence between them.

"His dad's head of the Auror office at the Ministry," Remus explained. "Both his parents came to Hogsmeade and they talked to James about the war. He's been messed up about it lately. We're almost done with school and he's got Lily and…" He trailed off with a shrug. "It makes sense if you know James."

Dorcas was still watching the gentle waves of the lake. "I've never seen a bloke fancy a bird like that," she confessed, thinking of Potter and Evans now that Remus had brought them up like that. "Odd."

Remus chuckled. "Something like that, yeah."

"I went out with Amos Diggory two years ago, did you know that?" Dorcas said. She shifted her gaze to Remus, whose eyebrows had shot up so that they'd disappeared beneath his hair. She smiled a bit. "Yeah. Now _that_ was odd. Only time I've ever really gone out with anyone, too. Bit of a drag. You ever date anyone?"

"Er – no." Remus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I haven't ever really fancied anyone. Just sort of kept myself... busy. With school. And stuff."

"Really?" That surprised Dorcas. She thought about all the things she liked about Remus Lupin and knew other girls had to like those things, too. Smart, sweet, helpful, handsome… "Your mates are pretty up on that sort of thing, aren't they? I s'pose Potter was always more unconventional about it, but I know Black at least got his way around a bit before McKinnon."

"Yeah, well…" Remus stared at the grass. He picked at a few blades. "I just never felt that way about anyone."

For some reason, his answer disappointed Dorcas and all she could think of to say was "Oh."

They were quiet again, both wishing they had something to say, but somehow all they could think of was how complicated this whole I-fancy-you thing was turning out to be, and maybe it was too early to discuss that. Remus sneaked a glance at her and Dorcas sneaked a glance at him and they took it in turns so they were never quite glancing at each other at the same time.

_"Hey, what's your name, what's your story?  
I've been watching you all night  
And I've been ashamed, yeah  
But don't you worry  
I've been catching your eyes with mine…"  
– Artist vs. Poet –_

* * *

**James/Lily**

They probably should have seen it coming.

Everything was sweet and good and just about bloody _perfect_, but they were still holding too much in; they talked about the good things and not about the things that were tugging nervously on their heartstrings, gnawing worriedly at their bones. They were both frustrated – physically, emotionally, mentally – and they were keeping it holed up inside of themselves. They were restless and agitated; they wanted to let loose, to shoot hexes and shout obscenities off the Astronomy tower and roll around in bed together until all that pent-up energy was used up, wasted, satiated. They were tightly wound like a string around a finger, splitting at the seams and cutting off the circulation, and it wasn't going very well for either of them.

James was especially on-edge. After the conversation with his parents in Hogsmeade, James just couldn't take that edge off; he was worried and paranoid and desperate to make Lily understand. He'd been so close to telling her – so bloody close – and then the moment had been snatched away. He hated Hogwarts and its penchant for untimely interruptions. This damnable castle was hell-bent on ruining every important moment, wasn't it? James resolved that when he proposed to Lily, it would be well away from these corridors.

Lily, meanwhile, was sure that Marlene had had a point that day in Hogsmeade – she and James were bound to fight soon, and Lily wasn't sure how that was going to go. She knew it couldn't end poorly; Lily was in love with him and she'd be damned if James didn't feel the same way. They might be stubborn and stupid and hot-headed, but they weren't masochists and as such, they couldn't lose each other. Lily held that knowledge close to prevent her sanity from slipping into the ball of agitation she was becoming.

All in all, both of their impatient temperaments had been wound up, and they were now something akin to tightly bound bundles of dynamite that had been lit with a steadily quickening match. So it shouldn't have surprised either of them when they found themselves shut up in an empty classroom one late afternoon, shouting at each other until their voices were hoarse.

It had all started ten minutes prior. Lily had been on her way back to Gryffindor tower from the library when she'd gotten on the wrong side of Avery, and – long and redundant story short – James had happened upon them just as Lily was putting the finishing touches on her opponent. Even though Avery had been successfully subdued (knocked unconscious) and his memory modified (Lily wanted to avoid detention), something inside of James had snapped. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd been worried about, and he was _so tired_ of it, and he had no one to take it out on except Lily.

"What is the _matter_ with you?" he demanded furiously as soon as he'd dragged her into the nearest classroom.

"_Me?"_ Lily repeated, aghast and her anger skyrocketing to match James's now that he was accusing her of something she hadn't even started. "What's the matter with _me_? Speaking as someone who just happened upon that fight in the last second, I don't think you've got much room to blame anybody!"

"Why do you always have to fight with everyone every chance you get?" James shot back. He knew that wasn't fair but he'd snapped, that was it, he'd exploded into an unreasonable mess of impatience and rage and frustration.

Lily had caught onto his hypocrisy as well, and she wasn't about to let it go. Here was her stupid, arrogant boyfriend who she was completely in love with, and they should've ducked into an empty classroom to snog because that's what couples in love were _supposed_ to do, but neither of them had said it and it was driving Lily crazy and she wanted to strangle his stupid skinny handsome neck.

"Are you _kidding_?" Lily gave into the urge to shove him. "You start fights all the time! And I'm always targeted, you _know_ that, so how dare you accuse me of starting it? I never start it!"

"Well, just – you know, quit walking around everywhere by yourself like that!" James said, scrambling for something to shout at her about. He was just so _aggravated _– he wanted to tell her that he loved her, he wanted to wring the necks of every last Slytherin who'd ever pulled their wand on her, he wanted so badly to just rip off her skirt and make love to her against the closed door of that classroom. He hadn't been doing anything he wanted and now it was taking its toll.

"How about _you_ quit telling me what to do?" Lily suggested hotly. She wanted to do just about everything James wanted to do and it was so frustrating that neither of them was taking the initiative. "I'm _fine_, all right? If you haven't noticed, I can take care of myself!"

"Of course I've noticed," James said, tugging at his hair to keep his hands off her, "and it drives me goddamn crazy because you think you're invincible!"

Lily laughed, completely devoid of any humor. "That's rich! Coming from James Potter, Mr. I-Can-Do-Whatever-I-Like. Ugh!" She shoved him again. "You're such an arrogant, hypocritical prat, you know that? Walking around, doing just as you please, telling off anybody who does the _exact same thing_ because oh no, no one can do what James Potter does because they're not as clever so surely they won't be able to do it properly! God, you're such great big maddening git, I can hardly stand you most of the time."

"Well, fuck, Evans, if that's what you think and how you feel, why do you even bother with me at all?" James didn't know why he said that – _Merlin, Potter, what the bloody hell's the matter with you? Do you want her to dump your sorry arse right here and now?_

Lily wished she had something to throw at him, but the only things at her disposal were desks and she thought that might be a little much, so she just kept yelling. "I thought that was obvious!"

James took a step closer and jabbed her in the collarbone. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

"Fine!" Lily snapped. She had no idea what was about to slip off the tip of her tongue, but she was so angry and frustrated and she just wanted him to kiss her already that she didn't care, so she wasn't going to stop whatever she was about to say, and…

"Because_ I love you_, that's why!"

A ringing silence followed Lily's admission. That wasn't what she'd expected, she hadn't meant to say it – it was an accident, a terrible accident because this was just a _terrible_ time to say it out loud – and she almost wanted to clap her hands over her mouth, to keep herself from saying anything else, but she couldn't move. James was staring down at her, mouth hanging open, the words not quite connecting in his brain.

"What?" James's throat was dry and it was a struggle to get that one word out.

"What?" Lily avoided his gaze; that wasn't the answer she'd bet on. Well, if she'd thought about what she was going to say, she wouldn't have anticipated James to respond with _What_.

"What did you just say?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "You heard me."

"Say it again." James couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. He caught both her hands in both of his and squeezed her fingers, like it was some sort of button that would make the words fall out from between Lily's lips again.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you do this all the time and it's _annoying_, James," Lily said on an aggravated trail of breath. "You heard me the first time and you can't tell me what to do."

"I'm going to need you to say it again, Evans," James said through the thundering of his heart and his internal cursing that he'd messed this up so fantastically, "because now too much time has passed for me to say it back properly, and I'd like to say it back."

"How polite."

"So help me, Merlin, say it again or I'll hex you."

"How romantic."

"Evans…"

"How threatening."

"If you don't say it again, you're not going to like what I do to you."

"Oh, I don't know about that." Now that James's urgency had suggested that he was going to say it back, Lily relaxed and she couldn't help but egg him on. "I usually quite like the things you do to me."

James's grip tightened on her fingers. "Don't tease."

"I'm not teasing," Lily said innocently. "You have a very nice tongue."

"Damn it."

"You going to hex me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I love you, too."

There was that ringing silence again. It echoed off the empty classroom walls, battling against the impossible rapidity of both their heartbeats as the words hung between them – _Because_ _I love you, that's why. Because I love you, too. _

"Well." Lily had to swallow to keep the insane giggling from escaping her throat. The smile was tugging so purposefully at her mouth that her jaw was already a bit sore. "All right, then."

"Right. So." James swallowed too, trying to get the nerves to settle themselves back into his stomach so he could speak properly. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Well, I should think so."

James released her hands and caught her face between his own and he kissed her, hard, putting absolutely everything into it because right then that's what he felt – absolutely everything. _She loves me._ The thought replayed itself so frantically in James's head that the words were tripping over each other in their haste to be acknowledged. His lips nudged hers apart urgently, begging for her taste, desperate to feel every last corner of her.

"I love you," he said again, the words muffled between their smiles and the kiss. "I love you, I love you, oh my god, I love you."

"I love you." The words were spinning ecstatically and uncontrollably through Lily's brain, ricocheting around her skull and down into the rest of her bones. She wound her arms around his neck and tugged him closer. "I love you, I've loved you for _months_ –"

"Tell me more." James moved his mouth down to Lily's neck so he could keep kissing her and she could keep talking. "I don't even care what it is, just keep telling me you love me."

"I do, I love you." Lily hopped up so her legs wrapped around James's waist and she was caught between him and the door. His stubble and teeth scratched at her skin, his chest pressed warm and firm against hers. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I wrote it down and –"

James quit kissing her neck long enough to look at her. "You what?" he said through his smile. The hazel of his eyes sparked and danced and laughed a little bit. "You wrote it down? Can I see it?"

"Er…" Lily's legs tightened around him and her fingers tugged at his hair. "Right now?"

"Not – not right now, no." James's eyes drifted to Lily's lips and his mouth followed. "Good point. Lily, I love you so much. I'm sorry for being such a prat about five minutes ago."

"Quite all right." Lily's lips plucked at James's, drawing out their taste once, twice, three times. "I've managed to fall in love with you regardless, since you're not so bad most of the time despite how much I claim I can't stand you."

James smiled. "If our fifth-year selves could see us now…"

Lily laughed. "Oh, Merlin, if only."

"_We don't need nowhere to go, we don't need a tune  
In a world that gets lost in making plans  
Just be my woman, yeah, and I will be your man  
All we need is time…"_  
_ – Green River Ordinance –_

* * *

**Sirius/Marlene**

Sirius watched the fire as it crackled and popped in the hearth. He toyed with the ends of Marlene's hair while her head rested in his lap. They were thinking about their friends. They'd been spending a lot of time rolling their eyes and laughing at them lately, and now the two were trying to figure everything out.

"All right, let's go through this point-by-point," Marlene said, holding up her fingers so she could keep track of the points as she ticked them off.

Sirius nodded. "Right."

"Alice and Frank are getting married in two months, give or take."

"Nothing to worry about there." Sirius whistled. "Thank _god_."

Marlene nodded, too. "Quite true."

"Remus and Peter, on the other hand…"

"Even more true," Marlene agreed. "So Remus and Peter fancy the same bird, if their wandering eyes are any indication. Seems to me that aforementioned bird is rather partial to the former, who isn't nearly as forthcoming as the latter."

"Point is, they're all terrible at staring."

"Indeed. On the upside, though, Lily and James are in love."

"Obviously." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know. Like when they're going to shag."

"They're going to, we can at least be happy about that," Marlene pointed out. "What's our bet again?"

Sirius furrowed his brow as he searched his memory for the details. "You've got two weeks in the prefect's classroom, I've got the locker rooms after the next Gryffindor match."

Marlene let out a _whoop_ of laughter. "I'm so going to smoke you," she said so smugly that it was almost as if she'd already won. "You know how irritated they both get with the prefects, they're going to get into a huge row and just shag it out."

"Maybe…" Sirius stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But you know how certifiably mad they get about Quidditch. They'll be _excited_ and Prongs'll be in his uniform and he'll be all sweaty and if you ask me, Evans seems like the type who really digs that –"

Marlene laughed even harder at that, mostly because she knew it was true but she was still convinced that she'd be earning five Galleons from Sirius within the next fortnight. Sirius grinned down at her. Her bright blue eyes were tearing up a bit, and her red mouth was open in a huge smile as the laughter tumbled from deep in her chest.

"You're so beautiful," Sirius said in his best impression of James. Even though he was being honest, he couldn't help but take the mickey out of his best mate's romantic tendencies.

Marlene noticed, too, so she rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, shut up."

"Fine, then, you're ugly." Sirius shrugged and Marlene gaped at him.

"You're ugly!" she said, punching him.

Sirius caught her fist so she wouldn't punch him again. Feisty little git didn't realize her own strength. "You don't have to hit me," he told her. "I was only wondering, you know, what you thought about all that I-love-you stuff."

Marlene cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is this your way of confessing your love for me?"

"I dunno. Sort of? Maybe." Sirius actually wasn't sure what he wanted to say, but he knew that he could say whatever he wanted to Marlene and somehow she'd get the gist. "Is that your way of reciprocating?"

Marlene thought about it and decided she wasn't sure, either, so she said, "I-dunno-sort-of-maybe."

They were quiet for a minute, deep in thought, and then Sirius said, "You know I care about you, though."

"I know." Marlene brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. Her eyes twinkled up at him and they were quiet for a bit longer. It was a happy quiet, a companionable silence, and they were content to stay on the couch like that all night if they felt like it.

Sirius sighed, shook his head, and smiled down at Marlene. "Our friends are idiots."

"Ooh, yeah." Marlene mimicked Sirius's whistle from just a minute ago. "I know that, too."

"_Everybody's growing up around me  
But I ain't got no patience so  
Let's have another Jack and Coke  
I'm at a center of a story  
But I've still got some time to grow  
So crack another Jack and Coke…"  
– Alex Day –_

* * *

**A/N:** _Right, so, this chapter's function was basically to concentrate entirely on the relationships. I thought about thickening the plot, but honestly I didn't want to ruin the generally lighthearted nature of this chapter. I wanted to give you guys some uninhibited joy for just a little bit, so I hope the banter and confessions were enough to hold your interest for this chapter. Plot-thickening will resume next chapter, and if I do my job right, your tears will resume next chapter as well. Excuse me, my Moffat is showing._

_And, yeah, okay, so Lily and James didn't have sex in this chapter but ONE THING AT A TIME, ALL RIGHT? Perverts… said the girl who turned her one-shot into a trilogy partly so she could write all the smut so really she's not judging any of you because you are all her smutty spirit animals. _


	9. Run Away

_FAIR WARNING: Might want to read this one when you get some time to yourself. _

_This chapter features "Just My Imagination" by the Temptations, another round of "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton, and just the following snippet of Joshua Radin's "Paperweight" to tie the whole chapter together. _

* * *

_You want the sunrise to go back to bed, I want to make you laugh  
Mess up my bed with me, kick off the covers, I'm waiting  
Every word you say, I think I should write down  
I don't want to forget, come daylight  
Happy to lay here, just happy to be here, I'm happy to know you  
Play me a song, your newest one  
Please leave your taste on my tongue…  
– Joshua Radin –_

* * *

**Wednesday, 7:20 P.M.**

"I'll tell you something, Prongs," Sirius said as the two were clambering up the stairs to their dormitory after Quidditch practice. "That Vinner bird is right annoying – her _and_ McIntyre. I actually don't care how good-looking they are –"

"Yeah, too bad Raiff cares a bit too much," James said with a frown, thinking of how distractible his Seeker had become since the new Keeper's appointment. "I don't even know what McIntyre or any of those other Ravenclaws were doing there. Spying, I s'pose, even though they creamed us in the last match."

Sirius matched James's frown. "Mar said something about McIntyre giving Lily a hard time of it lately," he said. "Just stupid girl stuff, but I guess McIntyre's still sore about your rejection stunt."

"For the love of –" James swore. "Lily hasn't said anything about that."

"Not surprised." Sirius shrugged. "Like I said, it's stupid girl stuff that we wouldn't get, anyway. Mar says that Lily's taking it just fine, ignoring it and all that, but that's probably got something to do with McIntyre hanging 'round the pitch. Trying to make you feel like a tosser or some rubbish."

"Yeah…" James pushed an aggravated hand through his hair. It was annoying to deal with such petty drama, he thought, even though he wasn't going to let it get to him. It was a waste of time to get riled up about things like that when his girlfriend bloody _loved_ him.

Sirius was about to push the door of their dormitory open when he paused, his hand on the knob, face screwed up in concentration. James raised an eyebrow at him, but Sirius just shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips, then pointed at the door. James was about to ask his friend what the hell he was on about when he heard the noise coming from inside the room, too.

_What the hell?_ he mouthed at Sirius, who shrugged again. They kept quiet, Sirius turning the doorknob just enough so the pair could peek through the small opening…

Lily had brought her father's old record player up to the boys' dormitory. It sat at the foot of James's trunk, the needle spinning a record, the volume so loud that James and Sirius were surprised they hadn't heard it on their way upstairs. Lily was sprawled out on James's mattress, her feet bouncing in time to the music, her hands raised above her and twirling about as she sang along with the record. Remus sat cross-legged on the floor, organizing his notes, singing along every so often when he recognized the stanza or chorus. Finally, Peter was sitting on his own bed, tapping his quill against a book and mouthing along with words he didn't really know. James and Sirius exchanged nearly identical smirks as they listened to their friends sing along, completely tuneless and tone-deaf...

"_But it was just my imagination,"_ Lily sang loudly, her index fingers waving around, tracing patterns in the air. _"Running away with me…"_

"_It was just my imagination, running away with me…"_ Peter muttered with a small grin on his mouth.

"_Every night on my knees I pray,"_ Remus went on, a bit theatrically, swishing his hands over his notes and upsetting the parchment. _"Dear Lord, hear my plea…"_

"_Don't ever let another take her love from me!"_ Lily picked up, her toes dancing. _"Or I will surely die –"_

"_Her love is heavenly –"_

"_When her arms enfold me –"_

"_I hear a tender rhapsody!"_

"For _fuck's sake_," Sirius said, finally bursting into the room, "what the hell are you lot doing?"

"Don't interrupt," Lily chastised him, completely unperturbed by the arrival of the newcomers as her fingers and toes continued twitching to the music. _"Just my imagination, once again, running away with me…"_

Sirius, however, wasn't having it. "What are you always doing here, anyway?" he wanted to know as he flopped down on James's mattress next to Lily. The sideways look he shot her was purely feigned annoyance. "_My_ girlfriend's not in here as much as you are –"

"_Just my imagination_ – that's because Mar's got detention more often than I do," Lily reminded him, interspersing her explanation with song lyrics so it was a bit difficult for Sirius to follow. "_Oh, I tell you, it was just my imagination_ – that's where she is now, actually, thought it would be funny to infest the dungeons – _running away with me_ – with a horde of bunnies –"

Sirius laughed richly, his head tipping back over one of James's pillows. "That is such a weird thing to do!"

"No weirder than shagging you," Lily quipped. _"I never met her, but I can't forget – oomph!"_

Sirius had silenced Lily with a pillow to the face, so Remus picked up the song where she'd left off:_ "Just my imagination, running away with me…" _he sang idly, re-stacking the notes he'd knocked over throughout the course of the record. _"She's in my mind and hard to find. Just my imagination…"_

The music siphoned away into nothing but the vague sound of the needle scratching against the record. James dropped a kiss to Lily's cheek before settling himself down by her feet, pulling one into his lap, and beginning to massage it. Lily giggled when his thumb pressed against the underside of her toes.

"Is this what you've all been up to, then?" James asked, nodding towards the floor where the record player sat. "Singing terribly off-key while Sirius and I are working our arses off down on the pitch, ensuring Gryffindor's imminent season victory –"

"We've got to practice," Peter told him, keeping his eyes on his homework. "We're starting a band. You and Padfoot aren't invited, by the way, so don't get any ideas."

Sirius snorted and since he couldn't reach Peter, he satisfied himself with poking Lily in the ribs. "Rude."

"Really." James purposefully tickled Lily's feet some more as punishment. "What're you calling the band, then?"

"Well," Remus said, his lips twitching, "your girlfriend wants to call it 'Lily and Those Two Blokes,' and I have to admit that it's got a sort of ring to it –"

"We had to shorten it, actually," Peter added. "It was originally 'Lily and Those Two Blokes that Aren't Padfoot and Prongs,' but that was a bit much."

James settled his gaze on Lily, who was giggling from a combination of Remus and Peter's commentary and James's touch on her sensitive feet. "You're such a little git, you know that?" he said, unable to keep the smile off his face. "You just sit around my dorm making fun of me with my mates when I'm not around, is that it?"

"Erm…" Lily offered him a sheepish little grin. "You're very handsome. Tops at Quidditch. Oh!" She started snapping her fingers maniacally and pointed at James, still snapping. "I love you!"

"Oh, well, in that case…" James caught her snapping hands and pulled her into a sitting position, sliding his arms around her shoulders and pulling her in for a kiss. She tasted suspiciously of treacle… "Hey, were you rummaging through my chocolate stash?"

"Shhh…" Lily pressed her lips back to his. "I love you and you're handsome and, you know, all that rubbish."

"You ate all my chocolate, didn't you?"

"She did," Remus and Peter affirmed simultaneously.

"Oh, sod off, you two," Lily said good-naturedly. "And _whatever_ to you, Remus, you're the one who nipped into it first."

Remus shuffled his notes around and grinned. "You're welcome."

Lily winked at him and turned back to James. "How was practice, then? You really going to manage to get us the Cup this year or what?"

"_Or what,"_ Sirius answered for James. "If the Gryffindor blighters continue on their happy little way, that is. Idiots."

Lily cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at James, who released a slightly aggravated breath at the memory of his sometimes less-than-stellar Quidditch team. "Bit fed-up with Vinner, that's all," James explained. "Raiff's not concentrating enough – not Vinner's fault, really, Raiff's just stupid sometimes – and you've seen her, she's so damn _touch-y_ with everybody."

"Oh, I dunno if it's _everybody_…" Lily fixed James with a meaningful look, but James only shook his head and leaned in to kiss at the corner of her mouth.

"I love you," he murmured so only she could hear him. "You can eat my chocolate and tease me all you like, because I love you and you're much better than some touch-y Keeper. You got that?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Lily ran her hands up and down James's arms. "Just remind me before you go skipping off to practices, or I might have to test out my _Confundus_ skills again."

James smiled and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "Deal."

Satisfied, Lily returned his kiss before swinging her legs off the mattress. "I've got to go," she said. "I promised Mar I'd bust her out of detention early. I don't know what Filch's problem is, anyway, they were only _bunnies_…" She shook her head on her way to the door, turning around only to blow a goodbye kiss to the room at large, and then she was gone.

When a full minute had passed and James was still staring dazedly at the door, Sirius gave him a good kick and said, "Jesus, somebody's in love, aren't they?"

"Two somebodies, actually," James said a bit smugly.

"Yeah, well, when you can take a break from wedding plans, d'you mind jumping in the shower?" Sirius requested lightly. "You reek."

James shoved at Sirius's prodding feet. "Says the bloke who's seeping sweat into my mattress. Get off my bed, you lousy wanker."

"Ha!" Sirius rolled off James's bed and collapsed onto his own. "Moony, would you switch off that mad Muggle magic-box? The scratching's rubbing me quite the wrong way."

"I feel like there's a sex joke in there somewhere," Peter noted dryly.

Sirius shot him that old roguish grin. "Always, Wormtail."

Remus fiddled with the needle of the record player. He had no intention of switching the player off; instead, he flipped the record back into place and let the song permeate the room once more. Something about it – and Remus didn't know what, precisely, but something about it was fitting. None of the other Marauders objected, and they all sat, murmuring along with words they didn't really know.

_Each day through my window I watch her as she passes by… I say to myself, you're such a lucky guy, to have a girl like her is truly a dream come true. Out of all the fellas in the world, she belongs to me…_

* * *

**Another Wednesday, 4:16 P.M.**

Narcissa's eyes scanned the parchment in her hand for the third time. She took in Bellatrix's words and she wasn't sure whether or not she was supposed to scowl. She was pleased to hear that the war effort was going so well for their side, but Lucius was already keeping her updated on that front and Bella could be so _sanctimonious_ sometimes. Narcissa had felt inept enough when she and Bellatrix were at school together; she thought some of the pressure might alleviate once they'd been separated for awhile, but _noooo_, there were just too many damn owls swooping around for Narcissa to catch a break…

Her internal struggle was interrupted then as she felt someone drop onto the couch beside her. She glanced over to see her cousin Regulus, his right hand plucking at his left shirtsleeve. His dark hair hung over his eyes and he'd lost at least fifteen pounds in the last two months. Probably more, Narcissa thought, but it was hard to tell since he'd hit his growth spurt over the summer, too.

She was about to ask what he wanted when Regulus, who was looking at his knees, said, "Cissy, can I talk to you?"

"What is it, Reg?"

Regulus took a deep breath and if it were possible, his skin whitened further beneath its recently obtained pallor. "I dunno if I can do this."

"Do what?" Narcissa asked, although she was quite sure she knew where this was going. Regulus certainly couldn't be talking about his homework.

"What I'm supposed to."

_Precisely._ Narcissa frowned. "Well, you have to," she said like it was a done deal, because it was. "What do you think's going to happen to you if you don't?"

Regulus took another breath. "I know," he said, because he did. It had been awhile since he had the opportunity to back out, and even then Regulus wondered if he'd ever had such a chance. "I'm going to do it. I just thought I should tell someone that I don't know if I can."

Narcissa fiddled with the letter in her hands. "I can't help you."

"I know."

They were quiet then. Regulus's mind was blank, and Narcissa wondered how much trouble his hesitance could cause. Surely it wouldn't mean anything good for the Black family – Sirius and Andromeda had already sullied the name enough – and any hint of disloyalty would certainly mean a very painful death for the sixteen-year-old boy sitting on the couch beside her.

"Have you said this to anyone else?" she asked him, crossing her fingers that he hadn't. It was one thing to divulge this sort of information to her, but if he'd said it to anyone else – Snape, Avery, Mulciber, even the bloody Carrows – then Narcissa wasn't sure if she could manage that damage control.

Regulus shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I – I haven't. Just you, right now."

"Good." Narcissa folded Bellatrix's letter and ripped it up, tossing the pieces into the fire as she did so. "Keep it that way."

The conversation seemed to have met its end, but Regulus stayed where he was, fidgeting. His foot tapped against the floor and he kept plucking at his sleeve, gnawing on his lip, tugging at his earlobe, scratching the back of his neck. He tapped one foot and then the other – _tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. Tap tap._

He wasn't sure what was wrong, exactly. He wasn't being asked – no, _ordered_ – to do anything that he hadn't done before. There was nothing specific or singularly awful about any of the tasks he had to perform; nothing was different than the way it had been that summer. But Regulus couldn't stop thinking of the way Sirius had looked at him the last time they'd run into each other. He couldn't stop thinking of the way Sirius _refused_ to look at him.

Regulus chewed on his thumbnail and prayed to whatever god might be listening that he wouldn't have to kill his brother.

* * *

**And the Wednesday After That, 5:02 P.M.**

"Have a seat, James," Dumbledore said.

James had been wary ever since he'd gotten the Headmaster's note fifteen minutes ago, and that feeling only intensified as he lowered himself into the chair opposite the Headmaster. "What's this about, Professor?" he asked, looking expectantly from Dumbledore to McGonagall, who was hovering near the window, and back again. "I know I haven't done anything punishable lately."

Dumbledore offered him a sad smile and James's heart fell. "No, you're certainly not in any trouble," the older man said. "But it falls upon me to deliver some sad news to you, as it will appear in tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_ and we –" he glanced at McGonagall – "thought it would be best if you didn't find out that way."

James blinked, confused. "What's the _Prophet_ got to do with me?" he asked.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and James knew that whatever it was, it was even worse than Dumbledore had made it sound so far. A sudden, unpleasant possibility began to creep up on him… But no. James shook himself of that notion. That couldn't be it.

"We're sure you've heard of the losses our side has been accruing," Dumbledore was saying, and his voice began to sound like it was very far away. "We received news of another loss this evening, James, conveyed to us by Alastor Moody…"

James couldn't focus. Dumbledore's voice echoed oddly in his head as he told James the location of the latest Dark Mark, hovering over the roof that had kept him warm and dry and safe for so many years. And in his kitchen, destroyed by the ferocity of battle, his parents had been found… Parents who had loved and cherished and supported and laughed, parents who he had just seen mere _weeks_ ago, who had hugged him and explained the finer points of the war that had taken them away from him…

"No." James shook his head vigorously. "No. No, you're – you've got it wrong."

Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "Your parents," he began, "were especially gifted –"

"_Are,"_ James corrected him. He couldn't hear his parents spoken of in the past tense like that. It wasn't right, it wasn't _real_. "My parents _are_ especially gifted, Professor. They're not… they're not…"

James struggled to say the word, even though he didn't believe it. He thought of others who were "especially gifted" – himself, Lily, Sirius, Remus Peter, Frank and Marlene and the Prewetts… so many others. Were they all bound for the same fate? How was this _happening_? He'd been happy just two weeks ago, a week ago, _yesterday_, so happy, delirious, ecstatic, wonderful; how had that fallen apart like this? Why was it all unraveling like the loosened string of a sweater? Except that the sweater was his heart, his head, and that string was his last bit of sanity and Dumbledore was tugging on it so mercilessly, breaking him for no reason at all because it couldn't be true, it just couldn't be…

"Potter." It was McGonagall who was talking now, in an unexpectedly tender voice that James hadn't known she was capable of. "It's going to be all right –"

"No!" James said again, and he was on his feet now. "No, it's not going to be all right. They _can't_ be dead, they didn't _do_ anything, how could they be dead?" James was pacing blindly, not caring about anything but the impossibility that his parents were dead. Gone. They couldn't be.

"James…" Dumbledore began, but James wasn't listening.

"_How could they be dead?"_ he demanded again, and stricken with a sudden burst of rage, his fist hit the wall. He felt the bones break, felt the blood gush forth, but he didn't care.

"Potter!" McGonagall rushed forward and took hold of James's shaking shoulders. "Come on, Potter, sit down…" She led him back to his chair, where he collapsed. He covered his face with his unbroken hand, shutting his eyes against the onslaught of tears he felt threatening to come forth. It wasn't true, it couldn't be real, but it was, it was, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He'd been so worried about his friends, so concerned about protecting Lily, and now it was his parents who had been killed, snatched away from him, and the pain was so real that it burned.

"James." Dumbledore's voice penetrated the sound of blood pounding in James's ears. "They won't get away with this. I promise you that, James."

And James looked up, meeting the old man's ferocious gaze, a look he'd never seen on the Headmaster's face before, a look so cruel and fierce that didn't seen befitting of Albus Dumbledore at all, and James knew. Just as he knew that it was true – his parents were gone and they weren't coming back – he knew that Dumbledore was right: His parents won't have died for nothing. He nodded once before letting the grief take him over.

By the time James left Dumbledore's office, students had finished dinner and were headed back to their dormitories. He got his fair share of open-mouthed stares, and he didn't wonder why. His face was blotchy, his eyes red and overly bright, and although he'd allowed McGonagall to mend his broken hand, there was still a thick layer of blood caking his knuckles that he'd refused to let her clean. He didn't know why, unless he wanted some evidence to prove to himself that it hadn't been some sick nightmare. He wanted the pain to stay where it was, infecting and festering and overcoming him; he needed something to hold onto.

He needed to find Lily. She was supposed to be in the library, James remembered, doing homework with Alice and Marlene… He made an abrupt turn in the middle of the corridor, startling a group of second-years, and made his way around the corner and down a staircase to the library. He wandered aimlessly through the shelves for five minutes before he found the girls in a back corner. Alice looked bored and was making her quills race each other across the table. Marlene was leaning back in her chair, reciting definitions as Lily read the spells they were supposed to be reviewing for Charms.

"_Accio,"_ Lily said.

Marlene sighed and replied flatly, "The charm Benjy Fenwick used in third year – at the height of my obscene and endless love for him – to steal my notes, which I had ostensibly decorated with the words 'Mrs. Marlene Fenwick…'"

Lily smiled and James felt a tug at his heart as it tried to get to her. "Not the book's definition," she said, "but I'm sure Flitwick would love to see that story on his theory quiz…" Alice laughed.

James couldn't stand it any longer. "Lily," he said, and he found that his voice was terribly hoarse.

Lily looked up from her Charms book and, having taken in James's appearance, she was up and at his side in a minute.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her eyes moving to James's bloodied hand. "James, what happened?"

"Nothing," James lied because he didn't want to talk about it there. He wrapped his arms around Lily and pulled her in close. Her arms slid automatically around his waist and he buried his head in the gap between her neck and shoulder. "I need you," he whispered, his voice muffled, and the tears threatened to spill anew.

Lily nodded and pulled away. "Alice, could you finish up with Marlene?" she asked as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see you guys later."

Alice and Marlene nodded, looking concerned, and Lily took James's hand and led him out of the library. They walked in silence for a few minutes; Lily didn't want to push him for information until they had some privacy, until James could sit down. They were headed down the corridor that would lead them to Gryffindor tower when they ran into trouble.

"Potter and Evans," came Narcissa Black's voice from behind them. "How cute."

Lily and James turned to see that Narcissa was accompanied by Regulus, Snape, Avery, and Mulciber. Outnumbered again, as usual, Lily thought darkly before demanding aloud, "What is this? Thought you'd ambush us on the way to our dormitory?" She rolled her eyes. "Give it a rest, why don't you?"

The Slytherins ignored her.

"What's up with you, Potter?" Avery sneered. "You look like you're in a right state."

Mulciber chuckled. "Looks like Dumbledore told him about his parents, eh? Is that what's eating at you, Potter? Dead parents?"

Fueled by rage and grief and the Slytherins' laughter, James whipped out his wand and jabbed it into Mulciber's chest. "One more word," he growled threateningly, "one more word and I swear I'll curse you so violently that you'll spend the rest of term in a hospital bed."

"Put it away, Potter," Snape drawled as he withdrew his own wand. "Don't want to end up like your parents so soon, do you?"

"Five on two, is that it?" Lily snapped, her wand pointing at each of the Slytherins in turn. "I seem to recall taking out just as many of you myself back in March. Bad odds for you lot."

Mulciber grinned. "That's how the Dark Lord got rid of the Potters," he said. "Five on two's not looking too bad anymore, now is it –"

Mulciber was cut off when Lily lost her temper, blasting him backwards so that he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his back several feet away.

"All right, so unless the rest of you want the same, get out of here," Lily said, her voice low and dangerous.

Most of the Slytherins exchanged smirks, but Regulus was frozen, his wide eyes fixed unblinkingly on the end of Lily's wand.

"You'll get yours in the end," Narcissa told Lily before she turned away, beckoning the rest of the group. "Let's go; they're not worth a detention."

The Slytherins walked away, picking up Mulciber as they went. All but Snape, who still stood, the last target Lily's wand had. His fathomless eyes flicked from Lily to James and back again. He looked for a moment as if he wanted to say something – James wished he would, he'd love to go through with his threat and kill Snape right then and there – but he changed his mind and with a final, scorching look, he turned and followed his gang back down the corridor.

Lily didn't spare him another glance; instead, she took James's hand in hers again and pulled him towards the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Once in the common room, crowded with students, she led him to a secluded corner and sat him down in a chair.

"Was all that true?" she asked in an undertone. "About your parents? Is that it, what's wrong?"

James didn't say anything as the pain gnawed at his insides. He pulled Lily's hand until she was sitting in his lap; he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face back in her shoulder, nodding because it was the only answer he could give her. Lily ran comforting hands up and down his back as silent sobs raked his body, and she felt his hot tears spill over the exposed skin of her neck.

Lily fought back tears of her own. She thought of the Potters – kind, warm, talented people who loved their son to the point of heart-bursting adoration. She remembered how happy they had been, how they had met her with such strong warmth, how Charlus had hugged her, how Dorea had welcomed her into their home… It was as if she'd lost her own father all over again. But she couldn't break, Lily told herself. Not now, not when James was so shattered.

She saw the portrait hole open at the other end of the common room, revealing the rest of the Marauders. She caught Remus's eye and waved them over.

"Necking in the common room now, are we?" Sirius joked as they approached. "Really, you two –" He stopped when he got a good look at James, and the laughter faded from his eyes, his mouth. "What's wrong?"

James looked up from Lily's shoulder, his face flushed and damp. "My parents… Mum and Dad…" he began, but he couldn't bring himself to finish. His friends didn't really need him to, though.

Lily gently disentangled herself from his grip. James looked at her reproachfully, but she pressed her lips against his forehead to calm him, then moved out of the way as Sirius dropped to his knees next to James's chair and pulled him into a fierce hug. James returned the embrace the best he could with one arm, as he refused to let go of Lily's hand.

He didn't let go as they sat in that corner of the common room. He let his friends surround him, embracing him and clapping their hands on his shoulders and mussing up his hair, conveying sympathy and comfort and offering him anything he needed, anything they could do, but his fingers stayed locked around Lily's. He didn't say much – it was hard enough to just breathe as it was – but he shook his head when Sirius offered to stay in during that night's full moon. James knew that Sirius was hurting, too, but he also knew that Sirius would be better off running around the grounds and the village all night. That's how Sirius dealt with the emotions that were too much to handle, and James wasn't about to take that away, nor would he be willing to take any attention away from Remus during a full moon. No matter how bad things got for him personally, James would never go back on a promise like that.

When it was late enough that Remus, Sirius, and Peter really had to go, they offered James a few last words of resilience. Sirius took Lily aside as much as he could without making James relinquish his hold on her hand and he whispered to her, "Take care of him, yeah? I know you will, but – well – I just had to say it before I left."

"I know, and I will." Lily wound her free arm around Sirius's neck and pulled him in for a hug. She knew that Charlus and Dorea were just as much Sirius's parents as they had been James's. "Make sure you don't shut Mar out, either."

Sirius nodded. "Never," he promised, thinking of how easy Marlene made everything. He wasn't about to alienate her.

As soon as the portrait hole swung shut behind the Marauders, Lily looked at James and said, "Let's go upstairs, yeah?"

James could only bring himself to nod; he allowed Lily to pull him gently to his feet and lead him to the boys' staircase. She took him upstairs, led him across the dorm, and sat him down on his bed. He sat there, numb, tears streaming steadily from his eyes. Lily pulled his shoes and socks off and he wanted to tell her no, it was okay, she didn't have to do that, but he couldn't open his mouth. So Lily slid his robes from his shoulders and undid his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and stripped that from him, too. She folded everything and laid it on top of his trunk.

When she was finished, Lily ran her fingers along the side of James's face, kissed the top of his head, and murmured against his hair, "Lay down, sweetheart."

"Where are you going?" James managed to unstick his throat in the sudden panic that told him she was leaving. He caught her hand again and held on tight.

"Nowhere." Lily wiped her thumb across his cheekbones in a vain attempt to dry the tears that wouldn't stop. "I'm here, James. I just want you to lie down, all right?"

James nodded, his tense muscles relaxing a little at her words. He reluctantly let go of her hand and settled down into his mattress. Lily dimmed the lights, set one of her father's records on the player, and pulled the hangings around the bed, casting a Silencing charm for no real reason other than habit. If it were any other evening, James would have teased her about trying to "set the mood," but it wasn't any other evening. So Lily silently slipped out of her own shoes, stockings, robes, and tie, and then settled down next to James. His hand immediately found hers again, and his free arm wrapped around her waist. They lay together in silence for a long while; the only sounds that drowned out that quiet were the music, their steady breathing, James's occasional sniffle, and Lily's murmured, consoling words.

After an hour or so, James's fingers tightened their grip on hers. "You'll stay with me, right?" he asked, and his voice was quiet and choked and very, very afraid. Lily knew he didn't just mean for the night. "You're not going anywhere?"

"I'll be right here," Lily promised, her lips brushing over his knuckles. "Try and stop me."

James felt his muscles relax a little more. He looked at Lily, and even though the room was dark, he could see her green eyes watching him, unblinking, full of love and concern and that sort of I'll-be-here-for-you sentiment that James recognized without knowing how exactly he did. It was just Lily, and he always just knew. Lily's free hand brushed through James's hair, running in soothing lines, ruffling it a bit here and there, and James felt something like a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"I love you," he whispered, his throat scratchy from the salt of his grief. He looked at those steady green eyes, the pale freckles that skipped across the bridge of her nose, the arch of her eyebrows, the shocking crimson of her hair as it stood out against that porcelain skin. He felt the warmth of her hand in his, saw the curve of her lips. His fingers traced the bones of her spine and he pulled her a little closer to him, close enough that he just had to dip his head and close his eyes and everything else would simply disappear. So he did, and it did.

He kissed her, long and deep, his breath shuddering into her mouth as two pairs of lips parted. She kissed him back slowly, firmly, her hand pausing in its ministrations through his hair to grip his neck, right below his ear. Their tongues slid over each other, teeth nipped at lips and clashed once or twice and suddenly the kiss deepened, intensified. Lily's grip tightened at James's neck, and James yanked her closer so her body was pressed against his. His hands moved to tug at her skirt and Lily kicked it the rest of the way off, and then the calluses of his palms and fingertips were rubbing against the smooth expanse of her thighs; his thumbs traced the line of her knickers and dipped inside. Lily's fingers hurried to undo the hook and snap of his trousers, and James sighed roughly when her hand slipped through the material. His mouth traveled down her neck, the tip of his nose tracing the line of her throat, her jawline, his mouth nipping and tasting and sucking harshly, desperately, like his life depended on it.

"Lily…" Her name was a plea breathed against her skin, and James's voice was hoarse for an entirely different reason now. "Please…"

Lily's head was spinning. It was the first time they'd exchanged Because-I-love-you's all over again but James was so much closer to her now and the room was so much warmer and their breathing was so much shallower. James's mouth worked fervently at her neck, behind her ear and across her throat and at that dip of her shoulder. She knew what he wanted and she wanted it, too.

"Are you sure?" She choked out the question between moans as James's mouth drove her skin and heartbeat into a frenzy.

"Yes. I… need you…"

"Look at me." Lily's hands moved to frame his face and she forced him to look up, to meet her eye. She had to be sure this was okay, that this wasn't just because he was grieving; she knew that was part of it and there was nothing wrong with that, it was okay, as long as it wasn't the only reason. "James. Are you sure this is how you want to do this?"

He nodded. He was broken and she was the only one who could fix him, but it was more than that because he'd wanted this for so long and he loved her so much and no moment was ever perfect but she was, and that was enough.

"I need you so badly," he said, his fingers tracing her collarbone. "All of you, every inch, every way. You're the only thing I've got left –"

"That's not true."

"No, I – shit, I know that." James didn't know why he'd said that. Lily was right, it _wasn't_ true, but being there with her right then just made it feel like it was, somehow, he didn't know. He couldn't think straight. "You're just – you're different than everything else. The way I need you, it hurts, and I need you now. I want you. God, you're so beautiful." James's head dipped back down to kiss her neck again. "Lily, please, tell me you need me, too."

Lily's hands moved across his back and her heart thudded, hammered, thundered, and she released something like a sob when his teeth bit her ear and his fingers slipped inside of her. "Yes," she told him on her next sigh, "James, I –"

But her words were cut off when James's mouth ran its way back to hers. As much as he wanted to hear her say it again, he wanted to feel it, he wanted her to show him, he wanted to show her right back. They'd waited long enough – too long, and he couldn't keep waiting. He loved her, wanted her, needed her, all of her, for once and for all, finally.

Lily's back arched reflexively when James turned so that his body hovered over hers, his fingers still moving inside of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingernails scratching and digging into his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles and bones. He groaned into her mouth, the sound and feel of it reverberating past her tongue and down her throat. She pulled at his loosened trousers and James shifted off her for the moment it took to get them off; he tossed his glasses carelessly onto the bedside table before pulling Lily up into a sitting position so he could get her shirt off.

"Oh, God…" James's mouth descended to her exposed shoulder, teeth tugging at the strap of her bra. Lily's eyes fluttered closed as his tongue skimmed over her, his fingers pinching at her naked waist. He pushed her gently back against the mattress, one of his hands skimming behind her to unhook the clasp there.

There were a thousand little-big explosions happening between them – their minds raced with the scent of smoke-and-cinnamon, their taste buds tingled with the other's flavor, their fingertips crackled against the other's skin, sparking and electrifying, fingerprints imbedding permanently into flesh. James's tongue pillaged her mouth, and Lily's nails left long red scratch marks down his back. Their skin heated on contact, hearts ramming against ribcages as they fought to get to each other, butterflies erupted deep in their gut and fluttered frantically through their veins, dipping their wings into their boiling blood. Their nerve endings sizzled with every touch, every bite of teeth and flick of tongue, every twitch of the hand, every new inch of skin revealed and explored.

James rolled over so that Lily's body slid sinuously over the top of his. His fingers tangled their way through her love-tousled hair; it felt like silk and knots and velvet and twists and turns. Their kisses were hungry and deep and insatiable, intensifying with their nerves because they hadn't done this before and they wanted it so badly. Lily's hands shook as she ran them down the length of James's naked chest, her lips shuddered as they left his to follow the path of her hands. A small groan ripped from James's throat when he felt Lily slide his boxers down off his legs. This was it, this was happening, this was a real he could deal with, one that he wanted and needed and _Merlin_, he loved her… Lily's mouth was back on his, hot and demanding but still shaking and unsure. She was sure about this, about James, but fucking hell, was this nerve-wracking…

They both sensed the other's nerves, the trembling lips and hands and bodies, the hitched breathing that was combination love and lust and spine-shattering, gut-wrenching, please-god-don't-let-me-mess-this-up anxiety. James adjusted their positions so that Lily was once more trapped beneath him, his mouth drawing out her taste, his hands moving to divest her of the last of the material separating them. He felt her thighs shake as his fingers skimmed back up her body.

"It's all right," he breathed against her mouth, one of his hands cupping the side of her neck, his fingers tracing the skin behind her ear. "Please relax, I love you so much, I'm not going to hurt you…"

"I love you too, so _you_ relax," Lily whispered back, unable to keep a nervous laugh from escaping with her words. She slid her hands across his shoulders, rubbing gently in an attempt to calm them both.

James released a shaky chuckle and trailed his lips across her jaw, over her chin, down her neck, the kisses quickening with every beat of his heart, every new bit of her that he touched. Her body responded to every skim of tongue and fingertips, a string of sighs and moans expelling from deep in her throat each time. The heat was overcoming him, slamming into him in one fell swoop, and James's mouth moved back to hers savagely, roughly, enveloping her with an unparalleled need.

"Lily…" Her name rode on a groan against her tongue as James nudged closer, and Lily felt her body erupt with a thousand-million-butterflies-on-fire, her heart skipped and somersaulted, her nerves tingled and blasted off into trails of sparks and smoke. James's breath was a series of hot bursts against her skin and her fingernails dug into the back of his neck. "Lily, now, let me…"

"Yes." Lily nodded and directed James's mouth back to hers, their breath coming in short, ragged gasps as they kissed. James bit at her lips and Lily traced the shape of his with her tongue. One of James's hands clutched at her hip, and Lily's legs slid around his waist, crossing at the ankles. James's free hand dug into the mattress, fingers twisting into the sheets…

And then everything was pressure and a little bit of pain, slow and agonizing and so, so fulfilling, so right. Another thousand-million butterflies erupted through their veins, matches setting off their nerve endings so they popped and sparked and zoomed and crashed and exploded into a thousand-million flashes of light and sound. Their moans slipped off their tongues and crashed together somewhere between their lips. Lily whimpered a bit as the pain flashed through her and James pressed kisses across her face, whispering apologies… "I'm sorry, love, so sorry, are you all right?"

Lily nodded stiffly, her eyes shut against the pleasure-laced discomfort. "Just… go slow…"

James readily obliged, taking his pace slow, gritting his teeth against the nearly unmanageable desire to take it hard and fast and _now_. Everything about her was so warm and soft and perfect, so untouched by anyone but him, and she was his and he was so completely hers. His lips parted and moved at the slope of her neck, and her breathing came slow and harsh against his ear. Her mouth kissed at his temple, her tongue flicking and circling, pausing with every other thrust as she adjusted to the sensation and her sighs came deeper and more desperate.

When she said his name, it ended on something like a sob, and then Lily's hips were rocking to meet him for every push and pull. James took the hint and increased his pace, his hand bruising into her hip and the other twisting more purposefully into the sheets. His mouth moved back to hers and clung for a moment before it became too hard to breathe, and then his forehead rested against hers, their sighs and gasps mingling in the inch of space between their lips.

"Lily, oh my god…" James groaned, his face screwed up in concentration, trying with everything he had to spare to keep the pace slow. He sped up just a little, as much as he thought she could take. "God, you're so –"

"James…" Lily's breathing was erratic as she clutched at his hair, fingers twisting through the tresses and tugging gently. She moved her hips to match the pace he'd set. Her body was flaming, aching, unraveling, spinning and twirling, erupting into nothing more substantial than a cloud of pomegranate smoke and the singed, shed wings of a thousand-million-butterflies-on-fire.

Their lips found each other again, taking the other's in one intermingled, shallow gasp of breath. Lily's hand moved to tangle with James's, their fingers twisting together and clinging as their hearts beat a steady and frantic beat against their chests. Their names were sighs, entreaties, prayers, and promises, murmuring love against lips, fingers clinging together with an intensity that said they were never, ever letting go…

On the floor at the other end of the bed, the record continued to spin beneath the needle, and the slow sad tune danced its way around the closed curtains that shielded them from everything that was waiting for them outside.

_I feel wonderful because I see the love light in your eyes. And the wonder of it all is that you just don't realize how much I love you… And then I tell her, as I turn out the light, I say, "My darling, you were wonderful tonight... Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight."_

* * *

**A/N:** _BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING… I know that, according to canon, James's parents died of natural Wizarding causes. However, I don't have a whole lot of time to draw out death-by-illness; besides, I felt this was a way better effect for the sake of my fic, so this is what I went with._ _And let's be real – I have committed way more serious canon crimes. So let's just hold hands and let this one slide, too, yeah? If I did my job right, you're all too busy crying or rejoicing or feeling something to bother reprimanding me, anyway._


	10. Supposed-To-Be's

**Tuesday, 9:15 P.M.**

"Sirius?"

Sirius opened his eyes. He was laying upside-down on a chair in the Gryffindor common room, his feet propped up on the cushion and the rest of his body parallel to the floor. He would have seen nothing but ceiling if Lily Evans wasn't hovering directly in his field of vision.

"Yes, darling?" he said. He noticed the troubled look on her face and reached over his head to grasp one of her hands with his own. "You look upset. Tell Padfoot about your feelings."

Lily offered him a small smile, the dark look behind her eyes softening only a little, and that was enough to tell Sirius that she was more than just upset. "You say that to me a lot."

"Well, you have a lot of feelings," he said with a shrug, trying to lighten her mood a bit more before he delved into the reason behind it. "Besides, I could always use a new catchphrase, and I've grown rather attached to that one."

"Happy to be of service," Lily said, softening a bit more, but it was all lost again when she moved on to what had been plaguing her for almost a week. It wasn't such a long time, really, a week, but time has a tendency to drag when bad things are happening. "I need to talk to you, though."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Sirius joked.

Lily almost laughed. "Shut up," she said, using her free hand to mess up his hair as much as those perfectly coiffed locks would allow. "But funny that you should say that, because it's about James."

Sirius's eyes widened, all traces of mockery gone. "Are you breaking up with _him_?"

"What?" Lily's eyes mirrored his. That thought never crossed her mind, so she certainly hadn't expected it to cross anyone else's. "No, of course not! I just – does he want to break up with me?"

"Evans, what the hell?" Sirius sat up then, still holding onto Lily's hand as they dove into the thick of things.

"I don't know!" Lily said, frustrated now. She chewed on her lip and stared at her and Sirius's joined fingers, mulling everything over for the umpteenth time before she continued trying to explain it.

James had been increasingly moody ever since Wednesday night, and as much as she understood that losing your parents wasn't all fun and games, she couldn't manage to shake the feeling that he was trying to distance himself from her, and didn't that make things worse? But she didn't feel as though she could ask that, either; it would sound like she was accusing him of something, or like she was trying to force him to deal with his grief the way she wanted him to.

That wasn't what she wanted; it would be unfair and ineffectual at best, Lily knew that. James hadn't been able to do anything for her when her father died, and Lily couldn't figure out for the life of her what she could possibly do for James now. In any case, though, it didn't help that he was shutting her out, no matter how necessary or unintentional it might be. She just couldn't figure out a way to say any of this without coming off at least somewhat hostile, so she'd decided to go to Sirius first.

"It's – well, he's been distant," Lily picked up where she'd left off. "I know he's upset about his parents, of course he is, but I thought me and him were all right."

She paused to bite her lip again, thinking about another thing that had been nagging at her. "I mean, Wednesday night, after he found out, we – er – you know."

"Oh, yeah." Sirius couldn't help the wicked grin that flashed across his mouth when he saw how shifty Lily was getting. "I know."

Lily cleared her throat loudly in an attempt to keep her cool, although she knew she was about to lose it, anyway. It was her thing, after all, to keep everything bottled up and then word-vomit it up once she finally uncorked her feelings like she should have done in the first place.

"Right," she said, and then it was all spilling out, just as she knew it would but she couldn't help it regardless. "So I thought we were good. But then… Now he's sort of – he's just not himself, so I keep thinking that maybe I did something wrong, and maybe it's _so_ wrong that he wants to call it quits, because maybe shagging was supposed to make him feel better and maybe it didn't because maybe I'm just terrible at it or something and now he thinks 'Well, hey, my mistake, maybe I should have kept that I-love-you business to myself because she's quite the lousy shag so now perhaps I'll make myself emotionally unavailable enough for her to dump me instead.' And then I just feel stupid because you know I hate feeling so helpless about this, it's completely mad, but –"

"Whoa." Sirius held up a hand, trying not to laugh as Lily jabbered on, more incoherent with every passing word. "Slow down, sweetheart. James isn't breaking up with you – Merlin, no, be still my heart, but James Potter isn't that thick. He wouldn't do that, especially not because of something shag-related; I bet he was rubbish, anyway. But if the look on his face all Thursday was any indication, you _absolutely_ did nothing wrong."

"Oh." Lily released a breath to steady herself. She could feel her face heating up under the strain of saying too much and hearing what Sirius told her about James. "Okay, then. Well. That's good."

"Are you blushing?" Sirius grinned, teasing her.

"No. Shut up, Sirius," she said, smacking him as he gave into the irrepressible urge to laugh at her. "So if that's not it, then what is it? Is it anything else at all?"

Sirius shrugged, still chuckling a little. "You know James. He's just… I dunno. He's grieving."

"Okay." Lily's heart fell a little. She'd hoped that Sirius would be able to give her a different answer than she'd come up with for herself. He'd assuaged her worries about Wednesday night, but everything else was still too up-in-the-air for her liking. "I mean, I know that. I just thought that he'd talk to me more, that's all."

"Don't worry about it," Sirius reassured her, squeezing her hand. "He'll come 'round when he feels like he can."

Before Lily could think of any useful response, they were joined by Remus and Peter, who had just returned from an excursion down to the kitchens, obviously lacking one important, bespectacled member of their party. Lily looked around at them a little helplessly.

"Lose something on your way back, did you?" she asked.

"Er… Well, yes," Remus said, his heart breaking a little at the sadness etched in every contour of Lily's face. "James said he was going down to the pitch to fly around a bit before bed."

"Right." Lily blinked back her frustrated tears. She was being stupid, she kept telling herself, but all the same that didn't make her feel any less desperate or any more hopeful.

Determined to get that look off her face, Sirius released Lily's hand and promptly tackled her down to the floor, wrapping his arms around her in a suffocating bear hug, all the while saying, "Don't be _sad_, Evans, or I'll have to squeeze it out of you!"

"_Sirius!"_ Lily squealed. "Damn it, you great big idiot –"

While Lily and Sirius wrestled and Remus pretended not to hear Lily's laugh-laced cries for his assistance, Peter sat in silence, lost in thought about the happenings of the past week. He kept coming back to the same memory, which he dug up now to better determine how he could help rectify these unfortunate circumstances. He wasn't sure what good it would do, if any, but he nevertheless felt compelled to try. So he thought about the row he and James had had last year, about whether or not Lily really gave a damn about him. Peter still felt a twinge of guilt whenever the memory resurfaced, especially now that Lily clearly did care, but now he thought he might be able to use the experience in his favor – to help this time.

So when Lily had gained the upper hand and was sitting comfortably on Sirius's back, chatting amicably with Remus about homework and ignoring Sirius's muffled curses, Peter decided it was time to speak up.

"Lily, I think I might have an idea," he said.

"Oh?" Lily turned her attention to him. "About the Ancient Runes translation? Because I was thinking –"

"No." Peter shook his head. "I mean, I think I might have an idea about James."

"Oh," Lily said again, her confusion diluted by the hopefulness she felt rising in her chest at the possibility of putting an end to her James-related concerns. "Okay, well, hit me."

Peter nodded, thinking over his words carefully so as not to slip up, and then he began: "I think that James cares about you a lot more than he's willing to admit. Not just now, either," he added quickly as Lily opened her mouth to protest. "We all know he loves you now. But I think before last year, it was always a little bit… _daunting_ to him. I mean, he liked you, Lily – really _liked_ you – and it seemed like it was never going to work out for him. And I think it sucked a lot more than he was willing to say out loud."

"I dunno about that," Sirius interrupted, his voice echoing oddly against the carpet. "He sure whined about it enough. 'Oh, woe is me, Evans hates my stupid guts, Evans went to Hogsmeade with so-and-so, Evans is so pretty…' Blech."

Remus shot Sirius a disapproving frown. "As accurate as your paraphrasing is, Padfoot, I think Peter's got a point," he said. "I reckon what James told us at the time just skimmed the surface. Can't blame him, really; we took the mickey out of him about it enough as it was."

Sirius snorted in a sort of petulant agreement, and Lily patted him consolingly on the shoulder before turning back to Peter. "Seems like you've got the consensus on that," she said thoughtfully, thinking it all over, "but what's this got to do with what's happening now?"

"Well, I just think that now…" Peter paused, trying to regain the flow that Sirius had disrupted. "Okay, he cares so much and so do you, so that means he's sort of got a lot to lose here. And he's already lost his parents, and James – he doesn't like to look weak. Ever. He always acted so self-assured around you, even when he wasn't, and now he's completely lost and I don't think he wants you to see him like that, no matter what your relationship is."

A ringing silence followed Peter's analysis, broken only by the chattering of other Gryffindors sprawled around the common room, students outside of the Marauders' bubble, and as such their conversations didn't serve as a distraction to the silence that had settled upon the group around the fireplace. Sirius, Remus, and Lily looked around at each other, blinking past wide eyes, clearly surprised at the depth and clarity of Peter's speech and unsure of how to respond.

Remus cleared his throat once or twice before any words escaped, and then he said, "That – that is incredibly insightful, Peter."

"I have my moments," Peter said with a shrug. "Actually, I've sort of thought about this a lot. Glad it's finally useful. Well, sort of, anyway," he added, looking to Lily for some sort of confirmation. "I dunno that it actually helps you."

"No, it does," Lily assured him, shaking her head to dismiss his doubts. "I hadn't thought about that before, and now that I have… It helps, it does."

Peter nodded, pleased with his contribution, and then yawned. "Well, I'm off to bed, then," he said. He pushed himself out of his chair and waved to the group. "'Night, all."

"See you, Pete," they said, still a little dumbstruck over the unexpectedness of Peter Pettigrew.

And when he'd disappeared up the boys' staircase, Sirius looked around at his remaining friends and said, "Well. That was completely fucked, wasn't it?"

Remus and Lily were forced to agree, thinking privately that they couldn't have put it better themselves.

* * *

**Friday, 5:08 P.M.**

James wandered through the upstairs hallways of his former home. He didn't much feel like it was home anymore, not after it had been desecrated by such senseless, violent death. The downstairs had been torn to bits, mostly, but most of the house was salvageable; James just didn't see the point in salvaging it.

He didn't even want to be there. It was on Alastor Moody's instructions that he and Sirius had gone to Hogsmeade to Apparate to the manor an hour earlier, and Moody had met them there. Since James was next-of-kin and he didn't care to keep the house, he and Sirius had to collect the rest of their belongings to take back to Hogwarts, and the manor would then fall into the Ministry's hands. James didn't care what they did with it.

He walked into his old bedroom and found that it was as unkempt as he'd left it back in August. His mother had made the bed, he could tell because she always folded the quilt down at the top; the house-elves never did that. There was a pang in his heart as he thought about that, about how everything looked so normal and just how it was supposed to be, and yet so many things weren't at all how they were supposed to be. If they were – if everything was right in the perfect world he used to live in – then Charlus and Dorea Potter would still be there.

But they weren't. They weren't there, and everything was wrong.

James crawled onto his mattress, over the covers his mother had so tenderly smoothed and folded, and just lay there. He knew he should be getting his things, he shouldn't keep Sirius and Moody waiting, but he couldn't help it. He wouldn't be coming back here again, and he needed a few minutes to process what that would mean for him.

It wasn't as if he had nowhere to go. His parents had left plenty of gold behind, and James would want for nothing; his fortune combined with the one Sirius's Uncle Alphard had left him ensured both their livelihood. The Marauders had been planning on getting a flat together post-Hogwarts, anyway, and James meant to ask Lily to join them as well.

_Lily…_ James closed his eyes as he thought of her. She'd laid in this bed with him almost a year ago, on New Year's Eve, when they were still a secret, an emotional rollercoaster, a couple of teenagers who wanted the same thing but couldn't properly comminute that to each other. She'd kissed him here, she'd let him hold her, she'd slept beside him for the first time, and James Potter had had everything he'd ever wanted.

_That_ had been right. That had been exactly what it was supposed to be.

And now look at him. James snorted derisively at himself. He'd been a shoddy boyfriend lately, he knew that. He'd been running off to fly around the Quidditch pitch for hours by himself, just to clear his head and not feel anything. He hadn't really talked to Lily and he hadn't been kissing her nearly as much as he should have; he saw the hurt in her eyes every time they were together and he hadn't done a thing about it.

Sirius had mentioned it, too, on their walk to Hogsmeade earlier. He said Lily was worried that James perhaps wanted to end things because she was a lousy shag. _Merlin…_ James almost laughed as the memory flooded him. Lily Evans was anything but a lousy shag, and he was so head-over-heels that it wouldn't have mattered if she was. He wanted her all the time, needed her more often than that, and he'd done such an incredibly bad job of showing it that she'd been forced to doubt the – the depths or sincerity or whatever best described his feelings for her. The point was that he wasn't supposed to make her doubt it.

_James, you tosspot. _

They were right, they were supposed to be, and he couldn't just let that slip through his fingers.

He sighed and shook his head. He'd have to fix that, he knew, and he would, James thought as he pushed himself off the mattress. But for now, he had to pack his things and get back to Hogwarts. Potter Manor wasn't really his home anymore, and even though he hadn't been gone from the castle for very long, that was the place he was homesick for now.

Half an hour later, James dragged his trunk into the downstairs drawing room, one of the only lower level rooms that had remained intact after the Death Eaters' raid. Sirius was sitting on top of his own trunk, staring listlessly into the fire he'd conjured in the hearth, and Moody sat in a chair next to him. They were quiet, just waiting, and they both looked around when they heard James come into the room.

"All set, I think," he said when neither of them spoke. "Figured the heirlooms and all that could get stored in Gringotts, yeah? Everything else is the Ministry's."

Moody nodded. "Charlus left instructions for that sort of thing," he said gruffly. "I'll take care of it. In the meantime…" He inclined his head towards the chair on the other side of Sirius. "Have a seat for a minute. There's something I've got to talk to you about."

James exchanged a curious look with Sirius, who shrugged, and then he moved to the chair Moody had indicated. He sat at the edge of the seat, rested his arms on his thighs and leaned forward, eager to get this over with because he was so uncomfortable in the house that he'd grown up in.

"I've been keeping up correspondence with Dumbledore," Moody told them without any further preamble, "so I know he hasn't gotten around to recruiting yet, but I'm sure the likes of you two have an idea of what he wants from you."

"Er…" Sirius and James exchanged another look. "Well, yeah, we've got an inkling."

"Hmmph. Well, then, I won't say anything else there," Moody went on. "That's Dumbledore's field for now, but I thought I should have a word with you about it, anyway. Especially you –" he pointed to James – "you still seeing that Evans girl?"

James nodded, not quite sure where Moody was going with this.

"Thought so. She's a fighter, isn't she?"

"Yeah, I reckon so," James said, almost regretfully as he imagined Lily getting hurt in the process. It was a constant nightmare, worrying about her like that, but James could never fully shake it.

"Right, well, we're in no position to turn down fighters, especially not good ones," Moody said, and here he fixed James with a stern look, "so no matter what you think about what I'm gonna tell you, I don't want you running off and telling her not to fight. You got that?"

James didn't like the sound of where this was going now, but he nodded again, anyway. Anything that would help him keep Lily safe, he'd take it, no matter how much it scared him and made him want to lock her up in a cage until this whole bloody mess was over.

"This war, it's not a game," Moody said. "It's not all heroics – that's just about the last thing this is. It's dying, mostly, and it's worst for the Muggle-borns. You-Know-Who wants to set an example for the wizards who are fighting him, opposing him, and he figures Muggle-borns are just the right bait: They're attached to our world, but as far as he's concerned, they're not worth enough to keep around so it's not a waste to kill them.

"He's not just killing them, either," Moody continued. "Kidnapping, torture – ugly stuff. You're lucky if he just kills you, but the Muggle-borns, well… He likes to play with them a bit first."

"What are you telling us this for?" Sirius cut in, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Is Dumbledore trying to sugar-coat it or something? Is he not going to tell us this sort of thing before we stick our necks out for him?"

"No, he'll tell you," Moody said, "but I think Evans has a right to know exactly what she's risking, to the fullest extent, and I reckon James is the one to tell her."

James was nodding again but he hardly knew why. "Yeah," he said, and he found that it was difficult for him to talk. His chest was constricted with a sort of panic that had become so ever-present over the past few months, surfacing every now and then when he was faced with the very real dangers of the war. "Yeah, I'll – I'll tell her."

Moody matched James's nod, although his was less erratic, and he said, "Just so she knows. Dumbledore will tell her the same, but I thought you should know, too. Charlus would want you to."

"Right." James glanced down at his lap to find that he'd twisted his fingers together so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He relaxed his muscles, but he couldn't shake the tension that was weighing down his very being, his mere existence.

He knew Moody was right – about Voldemort, about Lily's precarious safety, about what Charlus would have wanted for his son – but as good as it was to know these things, James felt much worse than he had when he _didn't_ know. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of the year's first Hogsmeade visit when his parents had explained some of the more brutal realities of the war to him. James had so badly wanted to know everything, was convinced that knowledge was the best thing for him, but once he had it, well, he wasn't so sure that he'd been right.

Knowing what he did from September to now, James found that the walk back up the High Street to Hogwarts didn't quite look the same anymore.

Despite his misgivings, though, James still had something to fix. He was determined to ease these bad feelings with the ones that he should have been implementing all week, and so upon his return to Gryffindor tower, he immediately sought out Lily.

He found her lounging idly in an armchair, flicking pages in a book she didn't seem to be reading, and he said, "Lily, we have to talk."

Lily sighed. "Everyone's favorite phrase," she muttered, flipping the book shut and tossing it carelessly onto the table in front of her.

"Don't be thick." James smiled at her – it was hard not to smile at her, despite how stupid he'd been about it for the past eight days – and held out his hand. "Come upstairs with me, my perfectly neurotic girlfriend."

"_I'm_ neurotic?" Lily said incredulously but slipped her hand into his nonetheless. "Take a look in the mirror sometime, and then you tell me who's neurotic."

"Evans, please," James scoffed, completely deadpan, as he led her towards the boys' staircase, "I look in the mirror all the time and the only thing I see is one incredibly handsome bloke."

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn't help feeling a wave of relief crash over her at how normal James was acting. She'd felt better since talking to Peter, but all the same her emotions were such a nagging bunch that it had been difficult to be comfortable in her own skin lately.

"Did you ever really doubt how arrogant I thought you were?"

"Irrelevant," James said as they reached his dormitory. He opened the door and shut it again, flicking the lock to ensure that they would be left alone for at least a little while. "You love me now."

"Yes," Lily admitted, tugging her hand free of James's so she could wind her arms around his neck instead, "and yet I have to wonder how much you love me back."

"Completely, desperately, irrevocably." James's arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her close, all the while wondering what mad demon had possessed him to keep him from doing this every day for the past week. Bleeding, buggering, stubborn grief. "Have I put your neurosis to rest now?"

"Show, don't tell," Lily instructed quietly as their mouths inched closer together, "and maybe you will."

James grinned and he nudged her nose with his. "Miss Evans, are you propositioning me?"

"Yes, please."

With his blood pumping wildly through his veins and figuring that he could save the serious conversation for afterwards, James readily complied with Lily's proposal. He kissed her, slow and sweet, making up for all those times he hadn't taken the initiative that week, for all those times he'd made her think he didn't want her. He was going to make up for all of that right here, right now, so she'd never be afraid to put her faith in him again. Stirring up Lily's doubt was the absolute last thing he wanted to do; doubt bred too many other bad things for him to risk it. There was hardly room for those risks anymore.

Lily reveled in the feeling of James's lips against hers again, kissing her like he always did – like he meant it – and she was drowning in it, his taste, his touch, everything. The effect was immediate, instantaneous; it only took one meaningful brush of lips to take away everything that had been putting a strain on their relationship.

That was war and that was grief, they both knew that, and right then they made private oaths to themselves that they wouldn't let the overwhelming bad get in the way of everything they still had that was good.

Riding on the high of that thought, that feeling, James bent to scoop Lily into his arms and she laughed into his mouth as he carried her over to his bed.

"I love you," he murmured into her skin when he'd situated himself on top of her. He kissed his way down her neck. "I'm sorry for shutting you out."

"Don't, James," Lily whispered while her mouth sought solace with his. She refused to let him feel guilty for grieving. "Let's not talk just yet, all right? I love you and I've missed you and now… Just kiss me, yeah?"

James didn't need any further encouragement, and his mouth was back on hers in a second. The kiss was harder this time, heating up under the urgent longing they'd both been harboring since the previous Wednesday. It only took the right flick of the tongue over the right spot on the lips, and they were sighing and fumbling to loosen buttons as quickly as their shaking hands could manage.

Lily pushed James's shirt down until it hung on his hands and he shook it off, flinging the material aside so it landed somewhere at the foot of his bed. She shrugged out of her own unbuttoned blouse while James fought with the zipper on her skirt, and then her hands went to the snaps of his trousers and they were a mess of inexpert fingers and desperately kissing lips.

She was cinnamon and he was peppermint and _finally_, this was what was supposed to be happening.

"God, I've missed this skin," James said on a rough sigh as his hands trailed over Lily's bare stomach and his mouth followed. She tasted like honey and he couldn't get enough of it. "You're something else, Evans, you know that, don't you?"

"I've always suspected as much," Lily said through gritted teeth, her heart hammering around in her chest. She fisted one hand in James's hair and ran the other firmly across his shoulder blades and down his back. His mouth was still on her stomach and _god_, the way he was licking her… "James –"

"Mmmm." His exhaled breath burst hot against her skin, and her hips moved involuntarily in response to the sensation. James held fast to them with his hands and sucked harder down the line of her stomach. "You're so bloody perfect and you're mine, I'm so in love with you…" His thumbs hooked around what was left of her clothing and he dragged it down her legs, his mouth following their progress down her right thigh, knee, calf. His tongue traced her Achilles, making her moan, and then he moved to her left leg to take the slow journey back up, past her hipbone and over the line of her waist to her shoulder, pausing at her neck.

"Legs around my waist, love." James sucked once, hard, on the base of her throat. "I've got some lost time to make up for, and I'm going to make you feel incredible."

James, Lily realized a moment later when he'd eased his way into her, did not disappoint. But then, she'd never really expected any less.

It was slow at first, measured, like it had been the first time last Wednesday night, but there were no tears this time, no low-hanging cloud of grief. There was still need – there would always be need – but there was a patience to their kisses, their movements. It crackled at the edges with haste and frenzy, but they could hold off this time, take it slow, steadily climbing.

It was just the two of them, nothing else, nothing helping or hindering, nothing that was outside of their control.

Lily's arm wound around his neck, her fingernails digging deeper into his shoulder with every thrust. His mouth trailed down the side of her face, from her temple down her check to her jaw, up to her ear and then down her neck. His lips were firm and gentle all at once, steady and constant and right where they were supposed to be.

"I love you," she said, trailing off on a moan, her breath cut short and ragged. James thrust deeper, jarring her into another stream of jumbled sighs and words. "Fucking _hell_ –" another moan, this one almost like a sob. "James, you –"

"What, Lily?" James plucked small, breathless kisses from her lips. He moved faster, more deliberately, trying to get Lily talking again because he _loved_ it when she talked like this. "Tell me."

Lily clamped down on her bottom lip, trying to control her frenzied train of thought, but it was so useless when James was moving inside of her and biting her neck and his words were reverberating in her eardrums, humming against her skin, and that skin was so, so on fire: _Tell me tell me tell me…_

"You – just – damn it, James." Lily leaned up to catch his mouth with hers, and she kissed him with the sort of unbridled intensity that he should have been used to by then, but this was Lily, and James would never quite grow accustomed to her. Her legs tightened around him, her fingers tangled in his hair, their foreheads leaned against each other, and James pushed harder and faster and he groaned when Lily's hips moved up to meet his.

Lily kissed him again, clinging, one hand running through his hair and the other sliding over his shoulder and down his chest. "You're incredible," she whispered. "All of you, everything. I don't ever want anyone else."

"Oh, Lily…" James shifted so that she was lying beneath him again. He held her hips and pressed his mouth to the corner of hers. "You're my world, my whole crazy, mad, ridiculous world…"

And that was precisely as it was supposed to be.

* * *

Later, they lay in the dark, the bed hangings closed around them and blocked with a Silencing charm as the other Marauders slept in their own beds, breathing steadily and snoring or muttering occasionally in their sleep. But Lily and James were very much awake, arms encircling, fingers caught up in tracing patterns over the other's skin.

"We were supposed to talk earlier," James said quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"Hmm?" Lily snuggled closer to him and trailed her lips around the base of his throat. "Right, we were. What did you want to talk about?"

James exhaled slowly, taking his time, running his hand back and forth across Lily's back. It was one smooth motion, back and forth a hundred times, a gesture of comfort, of intimacy, and a part of James wanted to keep it just like that, simple and sweet, untainted by the words he had to say, the darkness he had to let sift into his little bubble of light.

Damn, this wasn't fair.

"We're going to be fighting soon," he heard himself say before he could stop it, before he could somehow cushion the blow. "I dunno how soon – Dumbledore hasn't even talked to us yet – but after seeing Moody when me and Sirius went to the house, I just… It's all coming up rather quickly and it made me think."

Lily tiled her head up to get a better look at him. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but from what she could see, James's face was strained with that constant worry, the one he was always carrying around, and she stayed quiet, waiting for him to reiterate the same old argument.

James recognized her silence, the way her body stiffened in his arms, and he hastened to calm any potential, tempestuous flare-ups. "I know you can take care of yourself. I'm not going to ask you not to fight," he assured her. No matter what Moody or Dumbledore or anyone else said, James knew that he'd never ask Lily to make that sacrifice, anyway. This was her fight and he couldn't lock her away from it, no matter how much he sometimes wanted to. "But please, you've got to promise me, when we're out there and things are bad, _please_, Lily – if I tell you to run, you have to do it."

"James, that's not fair," Lily said, frowning, a flutter of panic tickling unpleasantly at her gut. "I mean, come on. What if I told you to run? Would you do it?"

"It's different, though," James said, shaking his head, willing her to understand. "That's what Moody told me. It's worst for the Muggle-borns. If you got caught, it's not just a simple curse, it's not that painless, and –"

James stopped, his breath catching uncomfortably in his chest as Moody's words floated to the forefront of his mind: _He likes to play with them a bit first…_

"I won't ever ask you to do it unless you absolutely have to go, all right, but please –" James's eyes widened imploringly as he looked at her, needing this – "promise me you'll run."

Lily could only shake her head, just as he had done a moment ago. "You're asking me to promise to leave you behind."

"No, I'm asking you to promise that you trust me enough to come back for you." James's grip on her tightened, trying to hold onto her, like the tighter he held, the longer he could keep them both safe and together like they were supposed to be. "I'd die for you, Lily, but I swear I won't give up without a good fight, and you know I always come off best in a fight. I won't leave you alone."

Lily met his eye. He looked so earnest, so sure of himself, of them. She trusted him, loved him, and in the end she was sure of them, too.

"You promise me that, James Potter, and I'll give you anything you want," she said, her voice steadier than she'd expected it to be. "But I _swear_, if you don't come back for me, I'll kill you myself."

James chuckled, his body relaxing with relief at her acquiescence; it seemed that he was always just holding his breath, waiting for Lily Evans to say yes to him. "I don't doubt that, but all the same I wouldn't worry about it. I'd have to come after you if I wanted my heart back, at the very least. Sneaky thief that you are, you managed to steal it away."

Lily felt her own heart melt a little (or perhaps entirely) at that, and she punched him in the shoulder. "Well, as you've stolen all the good lines," she said, "I had to get away with something, now, didn't I?"

"I've been practicing my lines for years," James said, tapping the tip of her nose with a finger, "need I remind you."

"Yes," Lily allowed, and she dropped a kiss to his poking fingertip, "but that one was much better than that time you pushed me into a broom cupboard, locked the door, and said, 'Well, Evans, now that we're here –'"

"You know," James said loudly before Lily could finish the reminiscence of that proposition, "I really thought we'd make it the rest of our lives without either of us bringing that up."

"Extraordinarily stupid of you," Lily said through a stream of giggles. She'd been nothing short of indignant at the time, despite how much she might have fancied him then, but either way it was much funnier in hindsight, now that she got to tease him about it.

Once she stifled her laughter, she met James's eye again and found him smiling softly at her. It was a sweet look, contented, and he was brushing his fingers through her hair, and he loved her, and just a minute ago he'd said…

"'The rest of our lives,'" Lily echoed, testing the words on her tongue, and she could have sworn that James was blushing. "That sounds awfully like the opening line to a proposal, is that where this is going?"

"Don't make me answer that, or I _will_ end up asking you right now," James told her in tones of all seriousness. He knew that would be the inevitable end to such a conversation, and he was not about to propose in the early hours of a Saturday morning, not without a ring or any proper preparation. "And this is so not how I planned on doing it."

Lily's interest was piqued. "You have a _plan_?"

"It's not so much a plan, exactly," James said loftily, linking his fingers through hers and bringing her knuckles to his lips. "It's more like this lingering desire to attach you to me forever and all eternity. Ever since you hit your untimely growth spurt fourth year and your legs _just wouldn't quit_, well –" he grinned and continued kissing her fingers – "I've hardly thought of anything else."

"Anything else?" Lily repeated, thinking over what exactly he could mean by that. It was hard to tell; between marriage and legs and James Potter, it was all about an equal possibility. "As in, anything else besides making me your eternal love slave, or the improbable endlessness of my legs?"

James smiled innocently, silently refusing to give into that question; she should know better by now. "I thought it was a package deal."

"Hardly." Lily slid her foot up the length of James's leg until her own was hitched around his hip. "These suckers get amputated on my wedding night."

"That's ludicrous," James laughed as his hand traveled from her ankle to her thigh, moving in slow circles and tickling the back of her knee.

"Watch it, Potter," Lily warned. "You don't want to come off like you're just with me for the legs. I'm testing your love for me."

"_That's _your test?" James lifted a skeptical eyebrow, but it wasn't enough to diminish that mischievous twinkle. "Because I think I've got a better one…"

And before Lily could react, James rolled on top of her, muffling her laughing mouth with his own smiling one, and for just another night – the number of which were dwindling all the time – everything was just as it was supposed to be.

* * *

_A/N: Well, that took forever, and I think I'm only happy with it because it's done and I don't have to exercise anymore energy on it. I do hope it was worth the wait, though. Anyway… Next chapter we'll get more into the plot-thickening. Chapter 11 starts out with a Jily scene (one that was supposed to be included here but ended up not fitting in), but the rest will be devoted to various Slytherins' POV because it's easy and I'm tired. _

_Just FYI, too, that proposition Lily mentioned – with the broom cupboard and the "Well, Evans, as long as we're here…" – I never actually wrote that, so if you think you missed something back in ARE, you didn't. That instance was meant to have happened in their fifth year. I'll probably do a one-shot. We all know how much I enjoy distracting myself from my bigger projects so, yeah, expect that to happen sometime soon._


	11. Kaleidoscope

**Monday, 5:16 A.M.**

Although it was early morning after a full moon and Lily wanted to let James sleep as long as possible before breakfast, she found herself slipping up to the boys' dormitory, anyway. She hadn't been able to assuage her paranoia, no matter how senseless it was, and she'd been tossing and turning all night; she wanted to get this settled so she could just calm down already. No matter how many times she told herself that it was James – because it _had_ to be James, who else would leave a flower on her pillow? – it didn't help, and it wouldn't until she knew for sure.

So it was just past dawn and she made her way up the staircase, pushed the door open as quietly as possible, tiptoed across the floor, and crawled into James's bed, wriggling her way under the covers with him. She prodded his shoulder a bit and whispered, "James."

"Mmm?" Despite his mostly unconscious state, James smiled at the sound of Lily's voice so close, her breath fluttering across his face, and her extra weight on his bed.

Lily shook his shoulder a bit more; she needed him fully conscious for this conversation. "James, wake up."

"What is it?" he mumbled.

Figuring that was the best she was going to get, Lily decided that maybe she needed to give him more of a push before he became self-aware, so she cut straight to the punch and asked, "Did you sneak a flower up to my dorm?"

"What?" James opened one eye to regard her curiously before closing it again and snuggling further into his pillow. "No, darling, I'm afraid I didn't."

"James –"

"Shhh. Sleeping."

"I know, but this is important," Lily pressed, trying to contain the nervous shudder in her voice. "If you didn't leave it, I don't know who did."

"Some stupid blighter, I'm sure," James said on a yawn. He slipped an arm around Lily's shoulders and pulled her close. "I'll hex him later."

"But –" Lily tried again, but James interrupted her with a tired whimper.

"No," he groaned and nuzzled her neck. "Why are you still talking? Go to sleep."

Lily sighed and rubbed his back, conveying understanding and apology, but nevertheless she was desperate to figure this out, especially now that it wasn't some silly romantic gesture from her boyfriend. Sure, maybe it was some silly romantic gesture from someone else, but the fact that it hadn't been James made the whole thing menacing, somehow. She didn't like it.

"I know you're tired," she said, still attempting to keep her cool and failing spectacularly this time, "but _please_, I can't sleep. I couldn't all night, worrying about this bloody flower. I mean, how did it get there?"

Recognizing the strain in her voice then, James opened his eyes, now determined to fight back his tiredness to soothe her agitation. "What sort of flower?"

"A lily."

"Pfft." James rolled his eyes. _Pathetic._ If this was some poor bloke's attempt to woo his girlfriend, it was terribly cliché and borderline stalkerish. "And you think I'd leave that? Please, Evans, give me some credit."

"I know." Lily bit her lip, still nervous despite James's joke. Really, she'd known that he wouldn't do something like leave her namesake on her pillow; that was perhaps why she'd been so paranoid about it in the first place. "But I couldn't think of anyone else who'd do that. It's – well, it's sort of freaking me out a bit, to be honest."

James frowned. If he were less flippant and more honest with himself, he wasn't too fond of the idea, either. Whether it was just some sad little third-year who convinced some bird to sneak up to Lily's dorm with a flower, or if it was somehow more threatening than that... Well, it was either mildly annoying or something else, and at this point James had learned well enough to expect the worst.

"We'll ask around," he suggested. "As long as we're quiet about it, anyway; I'd rather we keep at least some parts of our lives out from under Skeeter's claws."

"Too true." Lily released an irritated breath. If everything that Rita Skeeter had done so far wasn't bad enough, she'd spent the last two weeks hounding James about his dead parents. It was _interesting_, apparently, that two members of the most prominent pureblood family had been targeted by the Death Eaters. It wasn't sick or sad or anything serious at all, no, it was _interesting_. Charlus and Dorea Potter hadn't been people, parents, friends; they were just another thing for Rita Skeeter to write about.

"I wish she'd just give it a rest," James muttered, a dark look passing over his face. He shook it off after a moment, though, and said, "Anyway… We'll sort this flower business out. I haven't had detention in awhile, so I might as well get back on track with a good, thorough hexing."

Lily laughed a little. "Reckon you've just grown up a bit."

James wrinkled his nose. "Ugh."

"Most unfortunate," Lily agreed with a sardonic nod. James grinned at her.

"You're a right bad influence on me, Evans," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "Really. None of this would have happened without you and your ridiculous maturity ideals. Seeing as how you fancied me fifth year, too, I dunno why I bothered growing up at all."

"I'm not sure if I should apologize or say you're welcome," Lily said, smiling as she snuggled closer into his chest. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly when James's free arm wrapped around her waist and gripped tightly.

"Oh, well, you know that despite my complaints that it was worth it," James told her as he pressed a kiss to her hairline. His fingers rubbed gentle circles against her T-shirt. "You're quite the silver lining."

Lily's smile twitched a little more upwards and she sighed again. "I love you."

"And I'll never get tired of hearing that." James trailed his lips over her forehead. "I'll never get tired of saying it, either." His hand slid over her hips and down her thigh. "Or feeling it."

"Crazy and dizzy and stupid," Lily added, moving her own lips against the hollow of his throat. She grazed her tongue over his pulse point and felt it jump and increase, just like his heartbeat when she ran her hand over it. "Drunk and high all at once."

James grinned and dipped his head to kiss her, really kiss her. "Color me an addict, then," he murmured against her mouth.

"Addicts tend to require rehabilitation," Lily informed him, rolling over so she was on top of him. "Do I need to get you medicated?"

"Mmmm…" James's hands roamed her back while Lily's caressed his shoulders, bit his lip while she kissed her way over his neck. "Hit me up with a life-long dose of Lily Evans and I'll call you in the morning."

Lily's lips curved up against his skin. "It _is_ morning, love."

"Oh, good." James's mouth turned up in a wicked grin. His arms locked around her waist and he flipped them over, raining kisses over her face as he did so. He yanked the covers up so the sheets of cotton billowed around them, landing softly over their heads and plunging them in blanket-coated darkness. "I love you in the mornings."

"Afternoons and nights," Lily said, smiling against his lips when they landed on hers. "Midmornings and midnights, too."

"And teatimes," James added, twining his hands around all the loose strands of her hair.

She laughed. "Especially teatimes," she conceded, and wound her legs around his hips, tugging him closer to her. "Especially all the time."

James stopped kissing her long enough to meet her eye, grinning but nonetheless serious when he said, "You're my especially."

Lily bit back another smile and ran her hands through his hair, twirling the mussed tresses through her fingers. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"Don't be." James propped himself up on his elbows to avoid crushing her with his weight. He traced an idle finger back and forth across her collarbone. "I wish it was for a less nerve-wracking reason, but I'd never kick you out of my bed, anyway. Speaking of…"

Lily lifted a quizzical eyebrow when he trailed off with a little half-smile and a blush. She poked him teasingly in the stomach and asked, "What are you so quiet about now?"

"Well…" James took a deep breath. He knew that asking her this was something of a big step, despite the fact that he'd already told her he wanted to marry her (it hadn't been an official proposal or anything, but James thought it was close enough). This, however, was something more immediate and therefore, for the time being, it was… scarier. "You know that me and the boys are getting a flat together in June, yeah?"

"Right." Lily nodded. "Sirius said something about that in the letter he sent me over the summer – you know, when he called me a 'scarlet woman' for absolutely no good reason at all."

"Ah, right." James remembered that with a chuckle. "Well, since you proved him wrong, I was thinking that maybe – if you wanted to, mind, no pressure – you could… move in with us?"

Lily's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Oh." James watched her, trying to gauge her reaction, to get some kind of yes-or-no answer from her facial expression, but he wasn't succeeding; he'd always been rubbish at guessing games. "And, you know, then you could just be in my bed – our bed – all the time."

"And where would you be?" Lily asked, a glint of humor sparking in her eyes.

"Right there with you," James amended quickly, realizing his mistake when Lily pointed it out, "not kicking you out."

Lily thought about it, measuring the odds and ends. Of course, since her father died, her mother was off gallivanting across the globe, and her sister was married, she hadn't fancied the idea of living alone in her big, empty house any more than she fancied the idea of moving in with Petunia and Vernon, as their mother had suggested in her last letter. As if Petunia would ever go for that.

James was watching her nervously; although he couldn't determine anything from her facial expression, her silence was an entirely separate worry. He wondered if she was trying to come up with a gentle way to turn him down? Not that Lily Evans had ever been one to sugar-coat her rejections, but he thought that might have changed since she'd let go of that habit. Maybe she just wanted to let him down easy and was coming up with a way to do it, right now, as he waited on tenterhooks for her to give him an answer…

"Yes."

James blinked. "What?"

Lily smiled and ruffled up his hair some more. "Yes," she said again. "Yeah, I'll move in with you."

"Really?" His face brightened, the trepidation disappearing from his body so that he felt like he could breathe properly again.

"Yeah," she reiterated. "But I'm not washing your socks."

"Fine by me." James kissed her forehead, her temples, her cheeks. "I'll wash _your_ socks. And I'll rub your back, and I'll give you the good pillow, and I'll cook breakfast –"

"Maybe leave the cooking to me and Remus," Lily suggested. "I'm not sure I trust the rest of you with a frying pan."

"Deal," James said and, bringing his heart-as-light-as-air kiss back to her upturned lips, the conversation was effectively ended.

* * *

**Tuesday, 1:30 P.M.**

Remus had been waiting outside of the Arithmancy classroom for the past quarter of an hour, chewing on his thumbnail as the clock ticked away the minutes left in the afternoon's lesson. After the events of the past couple of weeks – months, really – Remus knew that he was going to have to take some sort of initiative. Rita Skeeter had done some questionable things so far, but digging into James about his parents at every turn was that little extra _too much_ that had led Remus to this conclusion.

So when the bell rang and the classroom began to empty, Remus caught sight of all that dirty blonde hair and he caught Dorcas's arm before she could disappear into the crowd.

"Dorcas, hey," he said, pulling her aside, "can I talk to you?"

Dorcas smiled through the skipping of her heart; what would some bloke be doing hanging 'round outside your class, if it wasn't for some heart-skipping reason? "Sure, Remus. What's up?"

Not knowing how she'd take this, Remus took a deep breath to steady his resolve and then said, "Listen, I know Rita's your friend and everything, but –"

"Oh," she said, her face falling. So maybe it wasn't such a heart-skipping reason, after all.

Remus blinked down at her, confused at the sudden slackening of her usually sunny disposition. "What?"

"What?" Dorcas tried to shake off the disappointment. "Nothing, sorry. Go on."

"Okay…" Remus regarded her curiously for another moment, but then decided to deal with what he'd meant to deal with from the beginning because, in the end, he was the only one who could. "Well, yeah, the thing is, could you get her – Rita, I mean – to back off James? She's sort of been on him all term, and all this stuff with her asking about his parents..." He shook his head. "It's not some gossip rubbish."

Dorcas shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. No matter how far Rita went for the sake of journalism, Dorcas had never been comfortable with the prospect of confronting her about it. So now she tried to play it off, ignoring that little voice in the back of her mind that told her she was laying, and she said, "Rita hasn't really done anything to him before now."

"Er – well, yeah, actually, she has," Remus said, determined to get her to see sense. How she didn't see it without his help was really beyond him. "She can't back off Lily for one second, and –"

"Oh, well, yes, if this is about _Lily_…" Dorcas muttered, regretting it almost immediately. What was wrong with her? She wasn't actually jealous of Remus's relationship with Lily, was she? Lily had a boyfriend, she was with James; there wasn't anything between her and any other bloke. And she _liked_ Lily, too, so what was her problem?

Remus was just as baffled as she was. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Dorcas shook her head, embarrassed and wanting nothing more than to extract herself from this situation as soon as possible. "Forget it. I'll tell Rita to lay off."

"Dorcas –"

"I have to go," she said before she could blush any deeper. She made to move past him, but Remus caught her arm again.

"Hey, wait. Did I – are you angry with me or something?" he wanted to know, brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "I don't mean to be a prat about Rita, but she needs to back off and apparently the term 'morally repugnant' isn't in her repertoire, so I figured you'd be the best person to go to about this."

"Yeah, I –" Dorcas sighed and shook her hair out to hide the blush. "I'm sorry, Remus. You're right. I'll talk to her."

"Are you sure you're not – is something bothering you?" Remus pressed, failing in his attempts to catch her eye, as she was staring determinedly at his left knee.

She shrugged. "Just a long week, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Dorcas shook her head again. What was she supposed to do, tell him what was really wrong – that she fancied him and he needed to get his act together and just ask her out already? Yeah, right. "No. Thank you, but… I think I'll just go talk to Rita now."

"Okay." Remus nodded and released his hold on her arm. He wasn't sure what to do about whatever was wrong, but he figured that if she wanted to talk about it, she would, and he shouldn't push her too much. "Thanks, Dorcas."

She waved him off like it wasn't a big deal, despite her unease. She probably would have given into anything he asked of her just to get out of that corridor; she'd begun to feel uncomfortably warm. So with her promise to talk to Rita intact, she bid good-bye to Remus and made her way to the library, where she was sure to find Rita doing some research. She'd become rather engrossed in Animagi lately; she'd told Dorcas that a recent Transfiguration lesson had really piqued her interest, and now she was going above and beyond her homework assignment to find out more.

Dorcas found her hidden away behind a bookshelf, pouring over a heavy tome about the history of human Transfiguration. It looked dead boring, if you asked Dorcas, so she didn't feel too bad about interrupting Rita's studies.

"Hey," she said as she took the seat across from her. "What's up?"

"Same thing as usual lately," Rita told her. She marked her page and looked across the table at her friend. "And since you usually complain about how dull I am in the library, I can only assume that you're here because you want something. What is it?"

Well, if that wasn't an opening to get this thing over with, Dorcas didn't know what was. Better to keep herself from beating around the bush; that never worked out in her favor and she always ended up saying the wrong thing.

"Right, so…" She bit her lip and then released it. "Remus talked to me a little while ago, about what you've been writing, and… Look, I think that maybe you should back off Potter and them. His parents just died and that's not usually something people are too excited to talk about."

Rita narrowed her eyes. "What do you care?" she wanted to know, and then cocked an eyebrow. "All that time you've been spending with Remus, hmm? Maybe I could write about you two instead."

Dorcas's jaw almost dropped; as hesitant as she'd been to have this conversation, she hadn't imagined that it would take such a turn. "You wouldn't. Rita, we're supposed to be friends."

"There are no friends in journalism, dear," Rita remarked nonchalantly.

"That's a new low."

"So let me write what I want to write and stay out of it," Rita said coolly. She wasn't necessarily put-off with Dorcas, but she wasn't going to exercise her patience on this completely useless subject; it wasn't going to change the way she dealt with things, although she supposed she could cut a _little_ slack, even if it was just to put an end to this conversation. "I'll lay off the parental angle, all right? I'm sure Evans has got something new going on, anyway."

"I meant that you should back off all of them," Dorcas elucidated, thinking that this was precisely why she hadn't wanted to bring this up at all. It was pointless, and now her only real mate was miffed at her.

"Whatever, Dorcas." Rita rolled her eyes, bored, and went back to her book.

Dorcas figured that that was the best she was going to get. The topic seemed more or less closed, anyway, and as she pulled out her own homework, she hoped that it wouldn't have to be revisited.

* * *

**Wednesday, 2:56 PM.**

Potter had said the wrong thing.

Students were milling around the courtyard during break, bundled up against the chill November air but wanting to be free of the castle walls despite the temperature outside. Snape sat with Regulus, the latter of whom hadn't been much of a conversationalist lately, so the former was pretending to study and shooting glances over the top of his book whenever he was so inclined. And he was inclined quite often, as angry as it made him, but he couldn't help the way his eyes would flick and his gut would consequently ache.

And when he heard James Potter say the wrong thing, Snape's eyes were very much inclined.

"Lily Potter, you get back here right now!"

And Snape's eyes had snapped right back up again.

Lily was turning around, back towards Potter from whom she'd been walking away for whatever reason, and Potter had been laughing right before he said the wrong thing. Because she was Lily Evans. _Evans._ Not Potter. Snape couldn't imagine Lily _Potter_.

But Lily was smiling; it was her turn to laugh and Potter looked sheepish – _sheepish_; for Merlin's sake, Snape could swear that that arrogant berk was actually blushing. And then Lily was teasing him, punching him playfully in the stomach, saying something that Snape couldn't hear, and she was still smiling. Smiling at Potter because he'd said the wrong thing.

It had been an accident, Snape thought furiously. A very wrong accident. So why was she still smiling?

She was Lily _Evans_, so what was she smiling so brightly about?

Snape hated this. Hated it, like always, and yet he couldn't look away. Like always. Because it was the same thing, over and over again: Lily smiling, Potter wrapping his arms around her, kissing her, Lily kissing him back, running her hands through his hair. Even when Potter said the wrong thing, Lily was wrapped around his finger.

"Do you think they know anything?"

Snape's gaze swiveled around to look at Regulus, who had followed his eyes towards Lily and James at the other end of the courtyard a moment ago.

"I'm sure they don't," Snape said. "Not yet, anyway. If they did, I'm sure we'd hear about it. They're not exactly prone to walking away when they're being threatened, are they?"

"No, I guess not." Regulus shifted in his seat, plucking at his sleeve as he was so wont to do. Snape wondered what that was about but couldn't bring himself to care enough to ask; nervous habit, he supposed. "You don't think it's going too far, do you?"

"Regulus." Snape took a measured breath, not in the mood for the boy's incessant doubts."How many people have you killed so far?"

Regulus paled. "We're still at Hogwarts."

"So?" Snape shrugged and tried to focus his attention back on his book. "Narcissa got rid of that Jenkins Mudblood last year and everything was fine. I don't know what you're so worried about."

"Potter, mostly," Regulus admitted, gaining confidence. He always kept his mouth shut for fear that running away with it could only get him into trouble, but he was exhausted and his mental resolve was just about fried with paranoia. "Am I the only one who notices what happens when we do something to Evans? If she doesn't take care of it herself, we've still got at least four of them on our tail. It just seems foolhardy at this point."

Not caring to admit that he and his fellow Death Eaters tended to come off worse in those encounters, Snape merely shrugged again. "Win some, lose some. If anything, it's going to prepare you for what it's really like in the war. Not everyone just lies down and takes it, Regulus; sometimes it's that easy, and other times it's not."

"We're right under Dumbledore's nose," Regulus pointed out, as if any of them needed a reminder.

"And when's the last time Potter or Evans or any of them went to Dumbledore?" Snape countered, just as pointedly.

"They're bound to eventually."

"Regulus, war is risky," Snape said. He kept his eyes trained on the page, not really seeing it, and not really listening to Regulus anymore, either. The words _Lily Potter_ continued to ring in his head like some sort of omen that would surely haunt him every hour from now on. "Deal with it."

* * *

**Thursday, 7:10 P.M.**

Regulus was not dealing with it. Not well, anyway.

He'd skived off all his Thursday lessons, claiming illness, and he'd been shut up in his dorm all day, alternately pacing and laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, picking at his sleeve and scratching the mark on his forearm. It itched, it always itched, like some sort of rash he couldn't get rid of.

He thought about his conversation with Snape the day before, going over every word and every detail, trying to find any angle that might have given them away. He couldn't find one, but that didn't do anything to ease his paranoia. He was in a constant state of looking over his shoulder, an inability to meet anyone's eye.

He'd been fine last year, before he'd offered his arm up to Lord Voldemort, but the summer had disillusioned him, shattered him. The summer had made him unsure, but it had also made it too late for him to turn back.

_As if you ever had that option to begin with_, a scathing voice snapped from somewhere in the recesses of his very disturbed mind.

Regulus's hands twitched and he twisted his fingers into his hair. Twist. Untwist. Twist. Untwist. He could never stay still, he was always itching to do something, but the somethings he was supposed to do made his palms sweat and his stomach churn. He was _bad_ at this, no matter how many times he tortured or murdered or cast the Dark Mark up into the sky.

Maybe that's why he kept having to prove himself – because everyone saw it: his hesitation, his reserve, his nausea. They all knew and they were determined to break him, to make him into one of them, like he could be nurtured to become a natural-born killer.

But it was hopeless, Regulus thought. He wanted to cry but he didn't have the energy for it. He flopped down on his mattress and pulled the hangings, shrouding himself in darkness and quiet. He wondered if he could drown in it, if he could just disappear into the abyss of his own despair, because even that would be preferable; maybe he could control his own abyss. But he doubted that, really, because nothing was his anymore. He'd given it up, it had been taken away of his own volition, his own misguided fantasies of power and glory had brought him here, and now it was too late for him to do anything about it.

It was hopeless – all of it – and he thought that perhaps it always had been.

* * *

**Friday, 3:02 A.M.**

Dumbledore sat in his office, awake with the portraits of his predecessors, and he gazed out the window at the pre-dawn darkness of the Hogwarts grounds. Fawkes was perched on his knee and Dumbledore stroked his plumed head methodically, like it was a sort of soothing therapy for the both of them.

"Excuse me when I say this, Albus," Phineas Nigellus remarked dryly from his painted canvas, "but I think you've rather lost it."

"Yes, well…" Dumbledore smiled idly as he continued to watch the stars. "To be honest, Phineas, I'm not sure that I ever truly _had it_ to begin with."

* * *

_A/N: I just wanted to say something about this chapter's title – "Kaleidoscope." The point is that the week is comprised of a bunch of little pieces of a bunch of different things that connect to create a sort of bigger picture. I'll let you determine that bigger picture for yourselves, but I wanted to make clear that it's not some arbitrary word; the chapter title and its contents were very much intentional._

_I also realize that Snape's POV might have gotten a tad confusing. Maybe, anyway (I'm trying to look at it objectively, and I could see it sounding strange), but no worries, you'll find out eventually. As for the Dumbledore scene, they were talking about the new inductions he's planning to make into the Order of the Phoenix; that's not a big surprise, really, but I didn't want to ruin the atmosphere of the scene by going into too much detail._

_Now, for the next chapter – the fun is way overdue, so we'll have Alice (uncharacteristically) tweaking about her wedding, Marlene and Lily commentating Quidditch, drunken Marauder shenanigans, and more singing to era-appropriate music._


	12. Interlude

_LOOK YOU GUYS I WROTE A CHAPTER ERMERGERD FINALLY_

_If you follow me on Tumblr, you're probably expecting certain things out of this chapter, and I can't say that I've delivered, for various reasons. Mostly it's because things changed as I was writing, but don't worry – anything that I've cut from those teasers either isn't important, or will be revisited later. _

_THIS CHAPTER IS VERY MUCH A TRANSITORY ONE. I wanted to make more happen, but it just wasn't working; that's why it took so long to write – I was trying to force things when they couldn't be forced. So just bear with me here, and let's be glad I finally updated, at least. _

* * *

**Tuesday, 6:15 P.M.**

"I AM LOSING MY MIND."

"Bloody hell, Alice!" Marlene said, jolting from her seat on the couch where she'd been nodding off over her Ancient Runes translation. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"It's got nothing to do with my knickers!" Alice snapped. Since Marlene was too far away, Alice took to whacking Lily around with a roll of parchment. "They aren't in a twist, besides, but you tell me how you feel when it's time for you to get married and it's 'round about a month away and you've got nothing done!"

"'Nothing done'?" Lily repeated incredulously. She caught the parchment Alice was beating her with and tossed it aside to avoid any further assault. "Alice, what are you talking about? You've got the dresses, the venue, and Frank's mum is taking care of the rest of it. All we've got left is the ceremony itself."

Wide-eyed and exhausted, Alice clutched at her curls and tugged, hard, to relieve herself of some of her long-standing stress and jitters. "I don't know!" she practically wailed. "I'm just so tired – all this planning, not to mention studying, and the worrying, I can hardly handle it anymore."

Lily rubbed a soothing hand up and down her friend's back. "Just relax, love," she urged gently. "You've got nothing left to plan; leave the bachelorette preparations to me and Mar –"

"Leave it to us, indeed," Marlene cut in with a mischievous grin. Alice glared at her but didn't say anything.

Ignoring them both, Lily went on. "You're doing fine in all your lessons, too, and N.E.W.T.s are months away, so don't kill yourself over it yet."

"_Yet_ being the operative term," Marlene added none-too-helpfully as she scowled down at her Runes book.

Lily shot her a pointed look before turning back to Alice, whose eyes were shining with the effort of holding all of her feelings back. "As far as worrying goes, well, we all are. But why don't we shelve that for a bit, yeah? We've all been wound-up lately, we deserve a break from it."

"I suppose." Alice sniffed and wiped the dampness from her eyes. "I think I'm just tired, really, working myself up over everything I've got to do, you know…"

"We do," Lily agreed, and Marlene nodded along in acquiescence.

Alice offered them both a rather watery smile. "I'm sorry for shouting, and for beating you mercilessly," she said, allowing herself a small chuckle. "I think I'll head up to bed for a bit, collect myself before I trip over the line of sanity again."

"Good plan," Marlene agreed. "Perhaps I'll be able to salvage my ear drums while you're gone."

"Oh, shut it."

Alice left them then, rubbing her eyes of tiredness and unshed tears as she went. When she was out of earshot, Marlene turned to Lily and very seriously said, "I reckon she's right, though, about losing her mind. It's not just her – more like the whole lot of us. This is too much to deal with."

Lily simply nodded; she didn't need to ask what _this_ was, that much was obviously. _This_ encompassed everything that Alice had mentioned, as well as everything else that was being thrown at them. It was schoolwork, which had been getting progressively heavier and more difficult as their final academic year went into full swing. More than that, it was everything else that was going on within Hogwarts, all the usual tension and discontent, which was gnawing away at all their patience, especially those students who took such clear-cut sides in the war outside.

There were fights breaking out through the corridors, from verbal to physical, many of which Lily and James had to deal with as part of their Head duties. There were threats to contend with, seemingly harmless sabotage in the form of untraceable hexes and tampered-with drinks at various House tables. Such "pranks" never resulted in any lasting damage – a trip to the hospital wing was always enough to diminish the effects – but the driving force behind those actions were a concern nonetheless, considering it was the Muggle-borns and blood traitors who ended up under Madam Pomfrey's care.

As Lily mulled all of this over for the thousandth time and before she could voice any of her own concerns to Marlene, Alice had rejoined them in the common room, wand held aloft as it levitated a brightly colored flower through the air.

"This was on your pillow," she said, her eyes on Lily as she flicked her wand and the flower dropped onto the table the threesome had been working at. "Another one. What is that – half a dozen in the past two weeks?"

"About that, yeah." Lily frowned and nudged the petals with the tip of her own wand. Despite the group's efforts over the past fortnight, they had come no closer to figuring out where the mysterious plants were coming from or how they got up to the girls' dormitory without anyone noticing. Although there was nothing obviously malevolent about it, the group had taken precautions, and it had been unanimously decided that no one should come in direct contact with the flowers, so they'd taken to destroying them every time a new one found its way to Lily's bed.

"This is _ridiculous_!" Marlene exclaimed. She slammed her Runes book shut and used it to beat at the flower on the table, scattering leaves and petals around their assortment of homework. "Seriously, who goes to such great lengths just to piss us off?"

"Reckon it would take less time to list everyone who _doesn't_," Lily pointed out dully. She waved her wand and Vanished what was left of her mutilated namesake. "If it happens again, I'm going to McGonagall. Not that it'll help, mind, but maybe I'll feel better, at least."

Alice nodded. "It might make a big enough production that whoever's doing it will stop, too."

"So long as Skeeter doesn't find out," Lily said. "She'd probably turn it into some exposé about how I'm carrying on an illicit affair with Professor Sprout or some such rubbish."

"Undoubtedly," Marlene snarled, thinking that would be the perfect excuse to follow through on her old threat and completely obliterate that little Slytheirn succubus. "She's been quiet lately, too; we haven't given her anything to work with, so I bet she's just dying for one of us to slip up so she can continue taking the mickey like it's her job."

"She's like Bertha Jorkins 2000," Lily said. "At least _she_ didn't put everything down in writing."

"True," a new voice piped up, "but I've personally got more of a bone to pick with Jorkins."

The girls turned around just in time to see Remus rolling his eyes at Sirius, and James said, "Only because she interrupted your snogging session with Hardwicke fourth year."

"Hardwicke?" Marlene echoed with apparent interest, raising her eyebrows at Sirius as he flopped down on the couch next to her. "As in Cynthia Hardwicke? Cynthia I'll-Shag-Anything-That-Moves Hardwicke?"

Sirius grinned at her. "Jealous, McKinnon?"

"Wasn't she a sixth when we were in fourth?" Alice asked, all thoughts of an early bedtime having vanished upon this new development.

"Yeah," Peter said, "but she was a bit thick, really, believed Padfoot when he said he was in seventh."

"Well, that's disgusting," Marlene said, sniffing imperiously. "And Peter's right, she sounds like a complete moron, so good on you, Black; not only did you get off with a slag, but a stupid one at that."

"It was three years ago!" Sirius countered, trying not to laugh when Marlene shot him a dirty look. "Circe's tits, McKinnon, lighten up."

Lily and Alice both threw crumpled-up pieces of parchment at his head. "That's a charming vocabulary you've got there, Sirius," the former observed.

Sirius threw the parchment right back at them. "I get it from Prongs."

"Oy!" James protested, and he waved his wand so the parchment flying at Lily's face shot back at his best mate. "Dig your own grave, yeah, and leave me out of it."

"Some friend you are," Sirius said good-naturedly. He dropped an arm around Marlene's shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "Quit being so sore, love. It's not like I gave much of a shite about Hardwicke, anyway; I never even got revenge on Jorkins for her untimely disruption."

"Speaking of," Remus said before Marlene and Sirius could continue picking at each other, "what were you talking about Bertha for, anyway?"

"Reminiscing about the pre-Skeeter reign," Lily told him. "Alice found another one of those lilies on my bed and I said I'd go to McGonagall if it happened again, as long as Skeeter doesn't hear anything about it. Who knows what she'd make of it?"

James frowned at this information. "Another one? Why didn't you tell me?"

Lily gave him a skeptical look. "I just did."

"Why didn't you tell me before, I mean?"

"Because it just happened not ten minutes ago, you sod."

"Right." James pushed a hand through his hair, frustrated that this kept happening. He knew it wasn't Lily's fault, of course, but he was on edge and it didn't do much for his mood or his good sensibilities. "Sorry."

Lily took his hand and squeezed. "Don't be. I know everyone's a bit off it lately."

"Yeah." James smiled weakly and squeezed back. "Something like that."

In truth, James felt less off it and more completely unbalanced. As smoothly as some things were going, there was always something else to upset that feebly established calm. While his relationship with Lily was more than everything it should be, he was still worried and she was still burdened under all the pressures the Wizarding world could possibly offer her. Sirius was letting his family get to him, Alice was constantly on the verge of tears, Marlene was perpetually angry, Remus was becoming more distant by the day, and Peter had bitten his nails down to bloody nubs at this point.

In short, "a bit off it" hardly seemed to cover what everyone was putting themselves through.

Later, while he lay in bed and Lily sat up next to him, thumbing through her Arithmancy textbook and jotting notes in the margins, James decided to broach the subject again.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, so as not to disturb anyone outside of his closed bed hangings.

"Hmm?" Lily said distractedly as she crossed out a note and wrote another. "Fine, yeah, just trying to figure out these numbers."

"No." James reached out and rested a hand over the book in order to get Lily's attention focused on him. "I'm not talking about lessons. I just want to know if you're okay."

"Oh." Lily stared down at James's hand, smudging the ink she'd just used to decorate the page. She bit her lip and released it. "I don't know, actually."

James slid the book out of her grip, shut it, and tossed it to the floor. "I don't like the sound of that," he said, wrapping his arms around her hips and resting his head in her lap. "You haven't complained in ages. Talk to me."

Lily sighed heavily and toyed with James's hair. If she allowed herself a moment of pure, honest thought, she knew what was bothering her: She was worried, just like Alice said – worried for herself, for her friends, worried that Alice was running herself ragged over thoughts of Frank and her brothers fighting. Marlene was bound to get herself in trouble soon; the way she was holding herself back wasn't a behavior that Marlene McKinnon was accustomed to, and Lily was sure it wouldn't last much longer. She saw Sirius's agitation, Peter's fear, Remus's reticence, and the way James was shouldering everyone's burdens to make it lighter for them. And she didn't even want to entertain the things that were haunting her so relentlessly.

"I'm tired," she said, falling back on Alice's not-totally-untrue excuse. "I'm tired and it's so _aggravating_ that things can't be okay for us."

Something about the words, the way she said them, broke James's heart.

"I'm sorry," he said, his hold on her tightening like it was so wont to do. "I wish I could fix it."

"You shouldn't have to," Lily murmured. "It should be okay by default, you know? But it's not and we're stuck worrying ourselves to death over things that are probably going to end up killing us."

"Lily –"

"I'm right, though, aren't I?" she surged on before James could try to make her feel more at ease. "I keep telling Alice that it's going to be okay, when really she has every right to feel the way she does. Everyone we love is so blatantly marked for death, aren't they, and we're going the same way, when we could just as easily run away instead, we could –"

Lily choked back a sob and James sat up, gathering her into his arms and stroking her hair. "Shhh, Lily, don't," he whispered into her ear, not quite sure what exactly he was asking of her. "Lily, we'll figure it out; we'll get through it. You know I'd run away with you if I thought it would make a difference."

"It wouldn't, would it?" Lily said as the tears kept falling. She hated this, feeling so helpless and scared, but the way everything kept going on, she couldn't help herself. She wrapped her arms around James and held on like he was her lifeline. "God, we're not even fighting yet, and already I'm acting the coward."

"You're not a coward," James told her adamantly; he hated hearing her talk about herself like that, as if she hadn't been dealt the lousiest card there was. All she ever did was hold her head high and fight back, and she thought she was a _coward_? He couldn't stand it.

He kissed her forehead and ran his hands across her back, and pulled away far enough to see her face. "Lily, look at me."

She met his insistent gaze with her bloodshot one. "James, I –"

"Don't." He shook his head and leaned back into her. "I changed my mind, I don't want to talk. I just want to show you how much I love you."

He kissed her then, and she responded eagerly, desperately. The way things had been transpiring lately, neither of them expected to make love any other way: It had become fast and greedy and insatiable, taking and taking and taking, trying to hold onto something stable and good, something that wasn't tearing apart their insides day by excruciating day. They found an escape in each other, and exercised it to the fullest extent.

They didn't talk; they barely managed to shed all of their clothes before James's mouth was marking her neck and Lily's fingernails were dragging down his back and he took her, burying his face in her hair and biting down on her shoulder as he pushed, and her moans filled his ears as her hips met his, and he felt that God, if he could have her for the rest of his life, he didn't care how much longer it lasted, and she thought that if she could just keep him there with her, despite everyone and everything that tried to make her feel otherwise, she'd be happy.

If this was the epitome of happiness in the midst of war, they both thought they might make it through – thoroughly scathed, perhaps, but nevertheless whole.

* * *

Having voiced at least a few of the things that had been so frustrating them lately, the seventh-year Gryffindors found that the next week passed by without incident. It was relatively calm, and there was an almost palpable air of relaxation that settled over them. The fact that the relief was most likely a temporary reprieve played in the backs of all their minds but, not wanting to disrupt the calm while it lasted, no one felt the need to articulate that fear.

Instead, they went about the next near-fortnight as if they hadn't a care in the world aside from schoolwork, and their biggest worry had been when Sirius nodded off during Transfiguration and accidently singed one of Peter's eyebrows.

Aside from that unfortunate incident in which Peter's visage was temporarily marred, the only hint of trouble any of them sensed was Remus's inner turmoil, and in any case, it was only Lily who saw fit to ask him about it. The others wrongfully assumed it was just because the full moon was approaching but, knowing what she did, Lily knew better than that. Remus, for his part, couldn't hide the source of his agitation from her. It wasn't that he was annoyed with Dorcas – quite the contrary – but dealing with his own feelings was nothing less than torturous.

As awful as it was, though, they were silently thankful that nothing worse than romantic uncertainty had besieged them lately.

"Remus, I know you fancy her," Lily whispered as they sat together in the library the following Friday. "You've been dodging the subject for months. I know why but, honestly, I hate seeing you this miserable."

"You're miserable, too," Remus pointed out, even though he knew that wasn't a worthy argument, and Lily seemed to agree with that unspoken sentiment.

"Of course I am," she said, "but there's not a whole lot I can do about social upheaval. Not yet, anyway, but I can at least make myself feel better by shagging my boyfriend as often as humanly possible."

"I know," Remus said, unable to help his grin. "For being two of the brightest students Hogwarts has seen, you and James have been slipping up on your Silencing charms recently."

"Oh, bugger…" Lily returned his grin, hers a little more sheepish. "Well, then, you know almost first-hand how much better I feel. Go shag Dorcas and you'll see what I mean."

Remus rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I'll figure something out."

"That was terribly noncommittal."

Remus hit his head on the table. "I _know_."

Lily giggled, and was about to continue her habitual badgering when Marlene joined them, slamming her book down on the table in a fit of frustration. "I loathe and deplore Ancient Runes."

"Ancient Runes loathes and deplores you," Benjy Fenwick interjected before Lily could exude any sympathy towards her friend.

Marlene scowled at him as he took the seat on Lily's right. "Where the hell did you come from, Fenwick?"

"Heaven," Benjy replied brightly before he turned to the other girl. "Lil, I've got a bone to pick with you about this week's patrol schedule."

"And that bone is…?"

"I don't want to do rounds with Carmichael," Benjy said without any further preamble. "She irritates me, makes me vaguely itchy and all that. She flirts incessantly."

Marlene snorted. "Merlin forbid a pretty girl flirt with the enigmatic Benjy Fenwick! Perish the thought."

"Mar, are you still bitter because I didn't snog you last October?" Benjy wanted to know, feigning seriousness. "I _kissed_ you, at the very least, and I'm oh-so sorry that I didn't take full advantage of you before I realized I just don't swing that way."

"You're such a git," Marlene laughed, tossing a spare quill at him. "I'm not bitter at all, love. I got my revenge, anyway, when I told Sirius that I ditched you because you've got stupid hair."

A strangled gasp escaped Benjy's throat then, causing Madam Pince to glare at him from where she was re-shelving books along the next row. "You did _what_, you hideous little tart?"

"Oh, relax," Lily said as she ruffled Benjy's hair affectionately. "You've got brilliant hair, really."

"Don't let James hear you say that," Remus advised teasingly. "He'll go into a fit of juvenile envy."

"Speaking of…" Marlene nodded towards a table a few feet away. "He's been trying to catch your eye ever since I sat down."

"That so?" Lily smiled as her gaze followed Marlene's to see James, Sirius, and Peter sharing a table, the former of the boys waving merrily at her. She tore her eyes away to focus back on her homework. "He's such a prat."

"I think he's trying to flirt with you," Remus said after a moment.

This caught Marlene's attention, and she promptly wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Oh, he _is_," she said, clearly appalled. "Just look at him – he keeps winking at you, and seriously? Crooking his fingers in that _come hither_ way. What a creep."

Lily laughed and shook her head, still refusing to meet James's eye across the room, something that her friends noticed.

"Are you just going to ignore him?" Benjy asked with an amused smirk.

"Too right I am," Lily affirmed. "I've got work to do."

Benjy seemed to consider this for a moment before he very thoughtfully said, "Can I flirt with him?"

Remus chuckled and Marlene's head popped up again. "Absolutely, yes."

"What she said," Lily agreed, pointing her quill at Marlene before resuming her note-taking.

Grinning broadly, Benjy made himself more comfortable and waved flirtatiously back at James. "Don't get mad if I steal him away, now."

"I'll forgive you if I can watch the two of you snog."

"Harlot," Benjy snorted.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Said the charming bloke who's about to steal my boyfriend's heart."

Across the library, James exchanged a look with Sirius and said, "Why is Benjy Fenwick winking at me?"

Sirius shrugged. "Got me, mate. More importantly, though, why are our girlfriends cozying up to Moony and Fenwick when we're very obviously pining for them over here?"

"Excellent question, Padfoot," James said. "I mean, how many times do I have to make fantastic love to her before Lily only has eyes for me?"

Peter sighed heavily and looked up from his essay, smiling a little at his very clueless friends. "You're joking, right?"

Both James and Sirius blinked at him, confused. "About what?"

"Well, about Fenwick, at least," Peter said slowly, unsure of whether or not the two of them were yanking his wand. "He, uh, he likes blokes. I dunno if he's seriously coming onto Prongs here, but… yeah, sooner Prongs than Lily, anyway."

"Oh." James blinked a few more times, trying to process this information. "But I thought – blimey, I thought that maybe he had a thing for Lily –"

"You think everyone's got a thing for Lily."

Sirius shot James a sideways look. "Wormtail's got a point there."

"Oh," James said again, a bit put-off with himself for jumping to conclusions. He thought back a few months ago, after that prefects' meeting; he'd assumed that Fenwick was all over Lily. "I almost hexed him awhile back. Thought he was flirting with her."

Peter snorted and Sirius barked out a laugh. "You tosser."

Before James could come up with a sufficient retort for the pair of them, he saw Alice hurry into the library, a box cradled beneath her arm. She spotted Lily and made her way over, dropping the box down and flipping the lid open. It looked like she was talking a mile a minute, gesturing wildly with her hands, and from where he was sitting, James could see the dark look that passed over Lily's face as she examined the contents of the box.

"What d'you suppose –" But James's thought was cut off.

There was a loud _BANG!_ and the table the other group was seated at burst into flames, engulfed in a thick cloud of jet-black smoke that cast sparks in all directions, which then exploded upon contact with wherever they landed – tables, chairs, bookshelves. The sparse occupants of the library shouted, screamed, scattered, as the flames ate their way through the room, climbing higher and spreading further. The temperature skyrocketed within seconds, and the smoke was thick, suffocating, cloying, curling around bodies and creeping into lungs –

"Holy fuck!" Sirius shouted through the noise as another spark connected with a shelf and exploded, the sound deafening as wood chips and destroyed books showered over them. "James – Peter –"

James could just make out Sirius and Peter's silhouettes through the smoke. They were safe, he thought, they were fine, and he ran after them as they sprinted from the library, dodging flames and falling furniture. They could barely see through the walls of red and orange and black; they were all mere outlines that came in and out of focus, bodiless curses and exclamations, their heads spinning with poison and noise and sheer, unadulterated panic.

Remus… Alice and Marlene and Benjy Fenwick… _Lily_… Where were they? Where was Lily?

There was a _whoosh_ of fire, a series of explosions, the shouts of his friends, and one long, shrill, bloodcurdling scream –

The library went up in fire and smoke, and James didn't know where Lily was.

* * *

_A/N: Don't kill me, all right? Like I said in the first note, this is mostly filler because as it turns out, I couldn't work my way around it. This was necessary, and hopefully good enough for the time being._

_Next chapter is _Covert Operations_, in which infirmary visits abound, drunken Marauder shenanigans happen (because I had to skip them this chapter), Lily and James spy on Remus, and Dumbledore officially starts recruiting to the Order. Also smut; I've been lacking there, so I'll make up for it next chapter._

_Comments, questions, concerns to which you'd like a lengthy response? Ask me on Tumblr, at _**cokebottleglassesarecool**_. _


	13. Covert Operations

**Friday, 7:13 P.M.**

James paced outside the hospital wing. Back and forth, back and forth. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that he go back to his dormitory, an instruction which had been promptly followed by a fantastic row that only ended when Dumbledore made an appearance. Taking note of James's frazzled state, the headmaster insisted that he wait outside with Sirius and Peter, both of whom had escaped the library with nothing more than a bad cough, which had been easily repaired by the nurse upon their arrival.

"Calm down, Prongs," Sirius urged as he watched his friend continue to pace restlessly on the threshold. "Everyone got out of there. Lily's fine – they're all fine."

"So why won't they let me see her?" James nearly shouted. He'd seen Remus, Alice, Marlene, Benjy… They were much worse for wear, since they'd been at the site of the explosion, but they were alive, they were all well and good, being fully and properly mended. James had breathed a sigh of relief at this news, a sigh that had caught and stuck in his throat when he realized that Lily's bed hangings were shut and Madam Pomfrey tried to shoo him out before he could see her.

Sirius and Peter exchanged a look before the latter said, "I don't know, but maybe it's just Pomfrey. You know how she is."

"_No."_ James's hand curled into a fist. "No, because if it was 'just Pomfrey,' then she wouldn't have let us see the rest of them, either. Fuck!" His fist connected with the wall. "Why won't they let me see her?"

"Oy, seriously, mate, calm down!" Sirius said. He pushed himself off the wall and grabbed James's arm before he could break his knuckles open any more. "Beating yourself bloody isn't going to make Lily any better, but _she will get better_, you got that? I don't care what's wrong with her, she's going to be okay."

James blinked back tears of pain, anger, and fear, and he thought about two weeks ago, when he told her he wanted to make things okay for her, so that they'd be okay, _she'd_ be okay, and look where it had led – straight to the hospital wing, where it always did.

He was supposed to protect her, and she'd nearly gotten blown up right across the room from him.

Sirius searched his friend's face. He saw the flickering emotions – the pain, the guilt, the agony – and he took James by the shoulders, looked him in the eye, and said, "She's not dead. They're gonna let you in there, and you'll see for yourself. She's fine. She's gonna tell you to quit being an idiot and you're gonna fawn all over her like you always do, for no reason, and she'll say she loves you, because she's not dead and that's the sort of thing that not-dead people can do."

"Why didn't I look for her?" James said, hardly having heard a word Sirius said. Some of it had registered, enough for James to see, in his mind's eye, the way Lily smiled at him, the way she took his hand and told him she loved him. She loved him, and he hadn't even looked for her when it mattered most. "Why did I just run out of there like that? Sirius, I promised her I'd never leave her behind, and the first chance I get to prove that, _I leave her_. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Shut the fuck up, mate," Sirius said, shaking him. "You know damn well there wasn't anything you could do. We couldn't see a thing in there, and if you would've stayed, you would've died. You would have really left her behind then, not to mention the rest of us. You want to be a hero, James, well, you've got to stay alive to do that."

"I still should've –" James's voice stuck in his throat and he fell silent. He had no idea what he should have done, what he could have done differently to make sure Lily didn't end up hurt. Because Sirius was right: She wasn't dead – _couldn't_ be – but she was still hurt.

He was so tired of seeing her get hurt.

Before he could be any more self-loathing (deservedly, he felt), the door to the hospital wing swung open and a sour-faced Madam Pomfrey stood before them.

"All right," she said, "the headmaster says you can come in now, Potter, as long as you hold your temper."

James wanted to scowl at her, to bite out a retort, but he couldn't manage it. He rushed inside, past his virtually uninjured friends, to the end of the ward where Lily was, her bed hangings open ever so slightly. Before he could rip them apart to see her, though, Dumbledore swept out from behind them and held up a hand to stop him.

"Professor –"

"I will let you see her, James," Dumbledore said evenly. "But you should know first that Miss Evans is very badly injured; nothing we can't fix, but all the same, you should be prepared. Now, I will give you a few moments alone, but then I must insist that I speak with you both. Is that clear?"

James nodded mutely. He didn't trust himself to talk, or to even open his mouth; he felt like he might throw up whatever he was holding inside.

He stepped around Dumbledore then, let the bed hangings flutter back into place behind him, and he felt his heart drop into the very deepest pits of his stomach.

"Oh, God," Lily groaned exasperatedly when she saw the look on his face, "would you mind not looking at me like that? I feel lousy enough as it is."

"I –" James swallowed the lump in his throat. He sat gingerly at the edge of her bed and let his eyes rove over her. _Alive_, he kept telling himself. _She's alive. _Somehow, though, it wasn't enough to completely assuage the guilt he felt for leaving her, no matter what Sirius told him to the contrary, and look how she'd ended up…

The left side of her face was badly burned, the skin bright pink and shining. Her lip had obviously been split open at some point, and blood trickled from a gash in her forehead. And from what he could see of her body, it was covered in burns and black-and-blue bruises; the skin looked raw, tender, and positively ghastly. He couldn't imagine the pain that must be wracking through her, and if it were possible, he felt his heart fall further at the thought that he could have prevented this.

"Oh, Lily, how did this happen?"

"An explosion to the face," she replied cheekily, then coughed. "Fucking smoke. Broke my ribs, too, got caught under one of the bookshelves – thank Merlin for Benjy, he had his wand out and levitated it off me – but Pomfrey fixed that up as soon as I got here. Still, though, it was a right pain."

James ran a light hand over her face, down her neck, careful to keep his touch gentle so as not to irritate the wounds. "Where else does it hurt?"

"Everywhere. Places I didn't even know existed."

"I'm so sorry."

Lily regarded him curiously. "For what? It was those blasted flowers. Alice found a bunch of them all over my bed when she went up to the dorm, put them in that box so we could go to McGonagall. I dunno what happened, but…" She gave a little shrug and winced at the pain in her shoulders. "Well, you saw it. I didn't know plants could do that."

James shook his head. "I should have come after you. I left you alone."

"Alone?" Lily echoed. "James, I wasn't alone. What would you have done, anyway, except maybe get stuck under the bookshelf with me? You could have been hurt."

"_You're_ hurt."

"Right. No sense in both of us ending up like this."

"Lily, come on," James said, furious with himself. He leaned forward to bury his face in her shoulder; she reeked of smoke and burned flesh. "I don't care how I'd end up, I should _always_ come after you."

Lily ran a hand through his hair, offering comfort to his conscience. "Don't beat yourself up over this. Please. It's bad enough without you feeling wretched, when you don't even have to. This isn't your fault."

James's hands clutched at the bedsheets, twisting the cotton between his fingers almost violently. "I'm never leaving you again," he mumbled. He pushed back the tears that threatened to spill over her, not wanting to upset her further with his dramatics. "I'm so glad you're okay, but I am never, _ever_ leaving you again, I mean it."

Not sure what to say that would make him feel better, Lily simply continued her caress through his hair, holding him close. She knew James, so it came as no surprise to her that he was being so hard on himself, but she didn't want him to think that _she_ blamed him, too. Far from it. Not that he'd listen, she thought ruefully as she felt a few of his tears escape and splash onto her shoulder. His stubbornness was such that it prevented him from being reasonable at times like this, and Lily supposed that, in this case, it had something to do with his protectiveness, too, and how he thought he'd failed her. Really, she knew there was nothing she could say to make that self-anger go away. She'd have to let it dissipate on its own and, until then, the most she could do for him was stay alive, which she had every intention of doing, regardless.

They stayed quiet for another couple of minutes. James's breathing relaxed somewhat as Lily's very much alive presence sunk in. _Alive, alive, alive. She's alive._

This mantra was disrupted when the bed hangings swept open once again to reveal Dumbledore's reappearance. James reluctantly disentangled himself from Lily, his hand reaching for hers in his involuntary need to keep physical contact with her.

"I have good news," the headmaster informed them. "Well, as good as news can be in this situation. Everyone is expected to make a full recovery – yes, even you, Miss Evans," Dumbledore added with a small smile when he noticed Lily's dubious expression. "Madam Pomfrey will see to it that you leave the infirmary as good as new, lest she desires another shouting match with Mr. Potter, which – after having spoken with her myself – doesn't seem high on her list of priorities at the moment.

"Furthermore," Dumbledore went on before James could defend himself against the control freak who ran the hospital wing, "despite the curse that was cast on those lilies, the library is already being reconstructed, thanks to the immense talents of your professors. Madam Pince is in need of a good lie-down, but all should be back to normal soon enough."

"Curse?" James echoed, not caring much about the library in light of this news. Not that he ever cared much for the library, nor was this news completely unexpected, but he wanted to get Dumbledore on track. "What sort of curse?"

At this, the light in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed a little. "Ah, yes," he said, as though he had forgotten. "That's precisely what I wanted to discuss. Miss Evans, I have it from Misses Prewett and McKinnon that this was not the first flower left on your bed?"

Lily nodded. "That's right. It's been happening sporadically for a couple of weeks now. I was a bit put-off about it, but it didn't seem harmful, really, so we decided we wouldn't go to Professor McGonagall or anyone unless it happened again, which is why Alice showed up at the library this evening. There were about half a dozen of those lilies on my bed and I was looking at them and then, well… _Boom_."

"Quite," Dumbledore agreed with a slight incline of his head. "Well, it's a curious thing, those flowers. There was nothing left for me to examine, but from the state of the library, yourself, and from what I've been able to gather, Miss Evans, you were being sabotaged with a Herbology conundrum known as the Lily of Death."

"That sounds promising," Lily muttered darkly. James's fingers tightened between hers.

They listened with rapt attention as Dumbledore explained the nature of the plant to them: A magical cross between the calla lily and asphodel, the Lily of Death was abound with symbolism and a very dark history. According to the most modern and advanced research, the LoD's origins could be traced back to ancient times, when mythology was widely regarded as fact. Part of this mythology claimed that the Asphodel Meadows was thought to be a section of the Underworld in which ordinary souls rested after death. The rest, however, was less history and more speculation.

As legend had it, the Lily of Death was created by an embittered wizard, scorned by a potential lover who was of less noble birth than he. He promised her soul to Hades in exchange for safe entrance into the Asphodel Meadows, where he cut the plants and brought them back to the mortal world. Along with Dark magic and the calla lily – often hailed as a symbol of the necessity of death – the wizard created the deadly hybrid. Once perfected, the witch who had so spurned his affections ended up dead, and the wizard's bargain with Hades was fulfilled, leaving the Wizarding world to deal with the repercussions of the Lily of Death.

Further legend and some history (based on reported cases where the LoD was thought to be involved), the curse set upon the flower could only succeed if the connection between the curser and victim was intensely personal. It was Dark, advanced magic, and – if successful in its entirety – would result in the victim's death.

"It seems to me," Dumbledore continued once the tale had been told, "that something about this particular curse was off, hence the amount of time the flowers took to take effect, and the way it backfired earlier this evening. It is not meant to harm anyone but the intended victim – in this case, you, Miss Evans. And yet others were caught in the backlash and you survived, which leads me to believe the caster was powerful enough, but reluctant to actually kill you."

James was shaking his head, trying to clear it, to steady his thoughts so he could respond intelligently to everything he'd just learned. "Professor…" He paused, thinking, and then gave up on intelligence. "That's completely barmy, all of it."

"It would appear so," Dumbledore agreed, "but the curse is untraceable, too, no matter how botched its effects. Whoever's targeting you clearly doesn't want to be caught."

"Well, why ever not?" Lily said, defaulting to heavy sarcasm in an attempt to keep her sanity. This was too much, really. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to keep their failed murder attempts private."

"Not like we couldn't make an educated guess, though," James pointed out. A dark look flickered behind his eyes as he turned to look at the headmaster. "I've got an idea or two, and I'd bet my life to put Severus Snape on the top of that list."

Lily frowned at him. "James, that's – well, it's not completely unheard of, but –"

"But _what_?" he demanded as he turned his burning gaze back onto her. "You know just as well as I do that he'd stoop to that level. And I can't say that mad old wizard from the ancient legend doesn't sound a bit like him, either!"

"_James,"_ Lily admonished as gently as she could, tightening her grip on his hand as if that would get her point across better.

She wasn't stupid, of course; Lily knew well enough that it could have been Snape who cursed those flowers. It wasn't as if he hadn't hurt her in the past – emotionally, physically, he hadn't held back, not since the "Mudblood" incident in fifth year. The problem, Lily thought, was that she wasn't sure if James truly suspected Snape in this case, or if it was just that that old story had touched a jealous nerve. James's current temperament was fragile enough as it was, and Lily wouldn't put it past his lack of reason to jump to conclusions based on jealousy.

"That's a very serious accusation, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore told the younger man. "Do you have any evidence to support such a claim?"

"Only the git's insane obsession with the Dark Arts," James piped up furiously. "Not to mention the fact he hates the lot of us, and he'd do damn near anything to get Lily away from me, even if it means hurting her. And it's not as if he hasn't hurt her before, either. Professor, last year –"

"James, don't," Lily cut across him suddenly, panicking as she realized what he was about to reveal.

But James was having none of it. He ignored Lily's plea and surged forward. "Last year, Snape, Avery, and Mulciber cornered Lily while she was on rounds, and he performed the Cruciatus on her."

Whatever was left of the light in Dumbledore's usually merry eyes flashed and died. He turned his uncharacteristically dark gaze onto Lily and said, "Is that true, Miss Evans?"

Unable to find her voice, Lily merely nodded. Oh, she was going to pummel James for this…

"I'm very disappointed that it took so long to tell me this," Dumbledore said. "Miss Evans, if there are any more threats to your life, I encourage you to come to me immediately. War is not the time to isolate yourself."

"With all due respect, sir, I wasn't sure how tattle-telling would pan out in the middle of battle," Lily said, a bit resentfully, more angry with herself than anyone. "Thought I should start practicing now."

"I would prefer to take preemptive measures while I am still able," Dumbledore explained, his tone softening as he realized Lily's discomfort. "Regardless, you won't be any use in battle if you're dead, and I don't relish the idea of Mr. Potter coming after me if I – someone in a position of power – did not take steps to protect you."

"And I don't relish the idea of dueling you, sir," James assured him. The implication that he wouldn't hesitate to do so if such a situation arose hung in the air.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly at him. "A desperate man, James, who has nothing left to lose, is a much bigger danger to an old codger like me, than I am to you."

Lily snorted, unable to help herself. "Professor, I don't think you'll ever be old."

"Funny, that's what my friend Nicolas often tells me – or rather, that I needn't worry about such things, as long as I remain on his good side, but... Ah, well." Dumbledore waved his nonsensical stream-of-consciousness aside. "That's a story for another day, I suppose. I'll leave you to rest now, Miss Evans. Remember what I said."

"Yes, sir," Lily said with another nod, and with a sweep of his robes and the bed hangings, the headmaster left them alone once more.

A palpable silence hung between them for a heartbeat, maybe more, before James muttered, "Sorry. For ratting you out. I know I promised last year that I wouldn't, but extenuating circumstance and all…"

"Right," Lily said, and – loathe as she was to admit it – she had to agree. She'd been stupid last year, compulsive, stubborn; she should have gone to Dumbledore straightaway, she knew that now, but she still wasn't eager to latch onto a horde of protectors when she could very well take care of herself.

Not wanting to rehash that old argument now, of all times, Lily sighed and tugged on James's hand so he'd come closer to her. "It's fine," she assured him. "I mean it. I don't know what Dumbledore's going to do about it, but he's right, you're right, and now's not the time to keep that sort of thing to myself."

"So I'm not in trouble, then?" James asked with a small smile. He plucked a kiss from her lips. "It'd be a shame if you didn't let me do that anymore."

"Perhaps when I'm fully recovered," Lily told him. She smiled back and James thought his heart might burst with the sheer fact that he got to see that smile again. Before he could act on the impulse that was positively screaming for him to kiss her again, the bed hangings whisked apart once more to reveal Sirius.

"Good, you're not shagging," he said, sounding relieved.

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. "I won't be shagging him anytime soon. Look at the state of me."

"Hmmm…" Sirius considered that, but then shook his head and said, "I don't know what you're talking about. You're ravishing, as always."

"Oh, shut up," Lily laughed. "What do you want?"

"Right, I did actually want something," he said, snapping back to attention. Usually Sirius had no problem breaking into his best friend's private moments, but this time he had a reason for it. "Remember when Wormtail asked that Meadowes bird to Hogsmeade? She said no, we thought that was it, yeah?"

"Yeah…" James said slowly, unsure of where this was going; he didn't notice the slight frown that had graced Lily's mouth.

"_Well,"_ Sirius went on with something of a flourish, "not that I think anything's going on between Meadowes and Wormtail, but she is here, right now, chatting up our good mate Moony. Came in here looking… flustered. Worried, like."

Attempting to keep any interrogation well away from Remus, Lily rolled her eyes and tried to brush the whole thing off. "Leave it to you, Sirius, to get all excited about something trivial right after we could have died."

"But we're _not_ dead," Sirius reminded her, as if it could have slipped anyone's mind. "Oh, no, we are all very much alive. Alive, and well, and red-blooded, hormonal teenagers with functioning libidos who – _aargh_!"

Lily put her now-empty ice cup back on her bedside table, smirking a bit as she watched Sirius shake water out of his eyes. "Take your functioning libido and go make Mar feel better, eh?" she suggested lightly.

Sirius's scowl vanished instantly. "Knew you were good for something, Evans," he congratulated jovially, and then Lily and James were once again left alone, the latter turning a quizzical eye to the former.

"Something you're not telling me?"

"Sounds more like something Remus might not be telling you," Lily replied with a nonchalant shrug, determined to remain noncommittal. It was Remus's business, and if he wasn't even ready to tell Dorcas how he felt yet, she was sure he wasn't ready to tell the rest of his friends, either.

Under any other circumstances, the naturally inquisitive James Potter would have pressed for more information. After all, he hadn't figured out Remus's furry little problem by sitting back and waiting to be told, so usually he would use the same tactics to figure out what was going on with his friend now. But, all things considered, James simply shrugged it off for the time being, and returned to – as Sirius would put it – _fawning_ over his very-much-alive girlfriend.

* * *

**Thursday, 7:58 A.M.**

Over the next few days, all remaining injuries from the Lily of Death catastrophe subsided. Alice's burns had faded, Benjy's broken nose had been snapped back into place, every case of potential black lung had healed, and even Lily's physical state returned to normal, all thanks to the doting care of Madam Pomfrey.

There was no indication that anyone had been caught responsible, but the Gryffindors hadn't really expected anything else; Dumbledore told them the curse was untraceable, so it was unlikely that the events would come to any real conclusion. James was disappointed – enraged, almost – when it seemed as though Snape would continue to go unpunished for his use of the Cruciatus Curse, but, at Lily's request, he let it go as best he could. Dumbledore, mad as he could be, must have his reasons.

Rumors regarding Friday evening's explosion flew around the castle, but there was no news of the incident reported in the _Daily Prophet_, no hint that the school was under any sort of pressure. There was news of other attacks – there always was – but even the details of those were scarce, either because information was the same way, or the Ministry was cracking down on the paper and forcing them to keep quiet about what they knew.

"Wouldn't be surprised if that's the case," Remus said one morning as he scoured the headlines. "The Ministry doesn't want to look like they can't handle whatever Voldemort's throwing at them. If they let the _Prophet_ report the specifics, mass paranoia will be the least of our worries."

"Yeah, as of now, all we've got to worry about is Skeeter's convoluted theories," Lily supplied dully as she, in turn, skimmed the latest _Skeeter Scoop_. "I was right, too – she found out about the flowers and reckons my 'illicit affair' went badly wrong, hence the attempt on my life. Idiot."

Sirius, who was reading the article over Lily's shoulder, snorted. "Why does she always assume you're shagging some wannabe Death Eater?"

"I expect it's more interesting than the actual case, in which I'm only shagging my boyfriend."

"Which is precisely why I wouldn't try to blow you up," James supplied, grinning indulgently as he swiped a kipper from Lily's plate. She glowered at him.

"Happy to hear that's why you're keeping me around," she said coolly, going back to the _Scoop_ with a distinct air of impatience. Sirius choked back his laughter and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Hey," James said, feigning indignation, "you know that it helps that I couldn't live without you, either, right? Give me some credit."

"Really," Peter helped out from his seat next to Remus. "There's no way Prongs would do anything that might keep him away from you, Lily. I reckon that's why we haven't even had detention this year; it'd take too much time he could be spending with you."

"Ha!" Lily laughed, refusing to give into Peter's words or James's smile.

Sirius, however, looked positively horrified. "Merlin's pants," he breathed, "Wormtail's right. We haven't had detention this year. Like, at _all_."

"Yeah," James agreed. He'd thought just the same thing not too long ago and remembered what Lily had said about it. "I think – now don't freak out, Padfoot, but I think we've… grown up."

"Oh, no." Sirius groaned and hit his head against the table. "I wasn't supposed to do that."

"We've turned into Moony," James added, faking his glumness as he enjoyed the way Sirius was overdramatizing the news.

Remus scoffed indignantly. "Oh, you should be so lucky; I'm much better than the three of you."

"Seconded," Lily said. She scooted out of her seat and went to take the empty one on Remus's other side. "I want to date Remus instead."

"Hey –" James said over the laughter of his friends, but he didn't get another word out before another person joined them. Lily's chuckles, for one, died out immediately.

"Hi, James!" Romy Vinner, Keeper and excessive hugger, took Lily's vacated seat between her dark-haired teammates. "Sirius, and R– something?" She shot an apologetic smile across the table. "Sorry, I don't think we've met."

Taking in the moody look on Lily's face, Remus decided to play along to make her feel better about the intrusion. "Funny thing is, my name actually _is_ R-something," he said in tones of the utmost sincerity. "My parents, see, they're not all there. Thought they'd leave it to the Healers to come up with something better when they wrote up my birth certificate, and yet here we are."

Peter choked on his pumpkin juice, James coughed loudly to disguise his laughter, and a smile touched the corners of Lily's lips. Romy, however, didn't catch the joke.

"Oh," she said, apparently unfazed. "Well, right then, and you're…" She screwed up her face in concentration as she regarded Peter, attempting to place his identity. "Was it Phillip?"

There was another round of suppressed mirth around the group and Peter said, "Do you know Bertha Jorkins, by any chance?"

"She's rather good friends with my cousin, yes."

"Ah." He nodded deliberately. "Right, yeah, it's Phillip."

"Something we can do for you, Vinner?" Sirius prompted. As much as he enjoyed what was going on, he had quite enough of the fifth year during Quidditch practices; he didn't want her disrupting his meals, too. Besides, Lily looked as if she was about to snap her fork in half, she was holding it so tightly.

"Actually, I was hoping I could talk to James –"

Lily's fork dropped to her plate with a resounding _clatter_. She was sure that Romy wanted to talk Quidditch and nothing else, but she wasn't in the mood to watch some simpering, less-than-adequate excuse for a Keeper bat her eyelashes at James. As much guff as she gave him about his jealousy, Lily was perfectly aware that she wasn't immune to that green-eyed monster as well, good sensibilities be damned.

"I'm going to find Marlene," she invented as an excuse to leave. "We've got a few more details to finalize for the pre-wedding night. I'd really rather not have Alice biting her nails over more preparations, so…" She trailed off. "I'll see you lot later."

Without waiting for any response, Lily abandoned her seat and hurried off, taking longer, quicker strides than usual. She didn't care much about the stitch she was forming in her side; it was much less irritating than listening to Romy Vinner talk for as long as she was intending.

Despite the burst of adrenaline that was propelling Lily so purposefully forward, it wasn't long before she heard even quicker footsteps approaching her from behind. She almost pulled her wand but thought better of it; she recognized that walk, and she didn't think James would take too kindly to being attacked.

"Evans." His arms were around her then, and her name was murmured low into her ear. "What are you running off like that for?"

"I told you," Lily said as calmly as she could when she felt his breath tickling her skin. "Mar and I have a few more things to do, and –"

"Bollocks." James bit her earlobe and turned her around, making sure to keep her in his arms as he did so. "Marlene told us last night that you'd finished everything. Even if you hadn't, I'd still call you out because I _know_ you lot are just headed to Muggle London the night before the wedding. Not much to plan."

Lily stepped on his foot but he only laughed. "Is Vinner annoying you again?" he asked, not even bothering to keep the self-satisfied grin off his face. "I assure you, there's nothing for you to worry about; she annoys me too. Besides…"

James's grin widened as he slowly backed Lily up against the nearest wall. "How could I possibly _look_ at anyone else when my very appealing future wife is sitting across the table from me?"

"'Future wife,'" she repeated, failing in her efforts to sound scathing as she held up her bare left hand. "Doesn't look that way to me."

"Do you want me to get down on one knee right now?" James whispered, his lips inching ever closer to hers. "Because I wouldn't mind getting down on _both_, you know, although I was thinking for a rather different reason."

"In the middle of the corridor?" Lily clarified skeptically. Surely not even James Potter was that bold.

"Anything for you," he said. He slid his hands down to the recently healed skin at her thighs. "You _are_ feeling better, aren't you?"

Lily's hands curled against his chest. "Nobody's left any mysterious Grecian flowers on my pillow lately, if that's what you mean."

James frowned a little. It had come to his attention that if they were going to discuss the incident, it was better to be flippant about it, to joke. It wasn't that it was funny by any means, but being perpetually angry about it wasn't going to help matters, either; at least if they were laughing about it, it would take some of the pressure off. Still, though, the whole disaster certainly hadn't helped to ease any of his constant worries.

Noticing the shift in his attitude, one of Lily's hands reached up to stroke his face. "Hey," she said quietly, "don't get all moody about it again, yeah? I thought you followed me out here to seduce me out of annoyance, not brood about something we can't fix."

"Right." James squeezed his eyes shut tight, just for a moment, to regain his composure. Once he had it, he opened his eyes again and smiled at Lily. "Where was I, then?"

"Right about here," she said, voice low, and she stood up on her toes to kiss him.

James's lips caught onto hers, regulating themselves to her shape, her taste, and the pace she'd set as soon as they made contact. All of his worries seemed to vanish, in the way only Lily could give him. No matter how loudly or how much he laughed, no matter how many walls he broke his knuckles open against, no matter how much he raged or tried to ignore everything that grated so insistently against his bones, Lily was the only one who could really make those things disappear entirely. It was just for a moment, he knew, but a moment was enough for him.

Lily's mouth opened under his, indulging in his early morning pumpkin-and-toothpaste taste. Her arms wound around his neck and pulled him closer so that his body was against hers and her back was digging into the stone wall. She allowed her mind to become clouded with his scent, his touch, and everything else – everything that wasn't James – fled her mind; he was such a beautiful escape. His tongue skimmed over hers and she thought she'd never need anything else, not as long as she had him to make it all go away for a little while.

Their breathing deepened, sped up, and James's hands roamed up and down her thighs, reaching higher every time he swept back up them, and he groaned into her mouth as his thumbs kneaded her flesh. Lily's sigh answered him, and her hands dropped to travel down the front of his shirt, lingering at the hem before she went to his trousers. Her hand rubbed against him, coaxing, convincing him to show her just how much he wanted her. He responded in kind, his hands gripping the backs of her legs and lifting so that she'd wrap herself around him. Her legs encircled his waist, ankles crossed at his back, and they both moaned when he ground against her, pushing her harder against the wall, their kisses becoming deeper and hungrier and unable to resist one another's lips.

"Fuck, Lily," James rasped out when her hips moved into his. His hand crawled up her leg and his mouth attacked her neck. "I want you."

"So take me," she breathed back, moving again, in just the right way, so that James growled and his fingers disappeared into her knickers. "Up against the wall, right here, I don't care…"

James was just about to take her up on that – the corridor was deserted, everyone was either still in bed or at breakfast, and it wouldn't take them long, anyway; it had been almost two weeks, since Lily had been too injured to exert much physically. As patient as James was willing to be for her, it had been taking its toll and all he wanted was to feel her, taste her, make her his again in that way only he'd ever be able to do, because they were forever, and –

"POTTER. EVANS."

"Shit." Lily dropped her legs immediately, landing lithely back onto the floor and adjusting her clothes as an irate Professor McGonagall stalked towards them.

Totally unperturbed by the position their headmistress had just found them in, James grinned, too high on pheromones to be embarrassed. "Morning, Professor."

"Don't get cheeky with me, Potter!" McGonagall warned as she came level with them. "How many times do I have to reprimand the two of you for inappropriate conduct before you learn your lesson?"

"That depends," James said thoughtfully. "How many times are we at now?"

"One too many," McGonagall informed him. "And as such, I will require your presence in my office at eight o'clock tonight. _Both of you._ Detention."

_Stellar_, James thought, trying not to grin more at how Sirius would be beside himself at the news that Lily and James had gotten detention but he hadn't. After their breakfast conversation, James was sure that his friend was positively itching to get into some trouble.

"– can't believe I've got to assign such punishment to the Head students," McGonagall was saying while James daydreamed. "Honestly, though, I don't know what else to do with the pair of you. Potter, I don't think I've reprimanded you and Mr. Black this often, in all seven years!"

"Well, to be fair, Sirius and I haven't ever snogged," James pointed out.

"Not in public, anyway," Lily mumbled. James elbowed her in the side and something twitched in McGonagall's jaw.

"Eight o'clock," the professor reiterated shortly. "Now I suggest the two of you go prepare yourselves; lessons start in ten minutes."

"Yes, mum," they chorused as McGonagall made to move past them on the way to her classroom. As soon as they thought she was gone, James offered his back to Lily. "Your chariot, love."

Lily giggled and jumped onto his back, wrapping her arms securely around his front. "We're not going to class, are we?"

"Not a chance," James said, and – not noticing that McGonagall was still watching them with something like a smile on her face – he took off running down the hallway, indulging in the sound of Lily's echoing laughter as he went.

* * *

Lily's mouth latched onto his, and one of James's hands twisted into her hair as he kissed her back. They fell onto the bed, James on top, and began pulling impatiently at the clothes that separated them. Buttons flew off and bounced onto the floor, zippers stuck and tore the material of her skirt and his trousers, shoes were kicked off and landed haphazardly halfway across the empty dorm.

As soon as the skirt was out of his way, James's fingers went back to what they'd been about to do when McGonagall caught them not fifteen minutes ago. Lily moaned as two of his fingers twitched inside of her, and her own wrapped around him, stroking at a rapid pace, both of them eager for each other.

"I love you," James breathed against her stomach as his mouth went to join his fingers. "Have I told you that recently?"

"Only every chance you get," Lily said on another moan when his tongue slipped into her. His free hand caught her ankle and tugged her closer, hooking her leg around his shoulders. "James – _God_ – faster."

"Nuh-uh," James said, breaking away from her just long enough to shake his head. "First tell me you love me."

"I love you," she automatically obeyed, and his mouth was back on her, his tongue inside, his lips caressing her.

All too soon he'd stopped again, pulling only far enough away to talk. "What do you want?" he asked, and then he was devouring her again.

"You."

"What do you want me to do?"

In response, Lily pulled him back up and over her body, then promptly rolled him over so she was on top and he was very suddenly inside of her.

James groaned at the suddenness, the intensity, the initiative Lily took, and he sat up, still moving steadily inside of her as he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her closer, pushing himself deeper as she rocked on top of him. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, the back of his neck, scraped through his hair. Her mouth left bruises on his throat and his littered them across her collarbone. James's hands moved to her thighs, stroking, rubbing, pinching her skin, and then they roamed back up to her chest, which was heaving with the effort it took to breathe.

Lily moaned his name again and begged for him to take her, quickly, now, she needed and wanted and he felt so incredible, and then the way she licked her way up the side of his neck drove James so crazy that he complied, sooner than he would have liked, but he couldn't help himself with her.

He pushed her back against the mattress so that he was on top again, and he picked up his pace, his hands gripping her hips and lifting them in time with his. Her own hands were tangled in his hair, pulling his face to hers to trap him in another skin-searing kiss. She sucked at his tongue and bit his lip and sighed, moaned, again and again, into his mouth so he swallowed the sounds and they settled somewhere in his heart.

White bursts of light appeared, popped, exploded into showers of sparks beyond their fields of vision. Their names were love-soaked sighs, pleas, a culminating reverence – adored and satiated and completely incredulous: _How have you managed to fall in love with me?_

Their breath hitched, caught, and slowed back down to a regular pace. Lily's hands grazed down his chest, fingertips tracing the lines of his body, as James left lazy, lingering kisses to tingle along the side of her neck.

"Mmmm." Lily sighed as James sucked at her pulse point. "I'm in love with you."

"I know." James's lips turned up against her skin. "I like it."

"Enough to get us detention, it seems."

James laughed. "Excuse me," he said, pulling away from her neck so he could meet her eye, "but you're the one who wanted to shag against the wall."

"It was your idea!"

"Maybe, but you're the one who actually said it."

Lily swatted at his chest. "You prat. You just – you tricked me, that's what I think."

"Maybe," James said again, winking at her. "And if you'll notice, love, we're positively _surrounded_ by walls now, with no McGonagall in sight…"

"How about that." Lily's eyes darted around the room before they landed back on James, shining and twinkling and smiling, almost smirking in challenge. "Let's see if you can trick me again, shall we?"

James smirked right back at her. "Let's."

* * *

**8:00 P.M.**

They'd been in McGonagall's office five minutes, give or take, and Lily had just pulled out her Charms essay to work on when she felt something hit her elbow. She looked down at her desk to see a neatly folded piece of parchment perched atop the wood; she glanced over to her right, at James, who nodded discreetly but encouragingly.

Lily's eyes flicked to McGonagall, who was busy grading theory tests, and – suppressing an amused sigh – she unfolded James's note.

**That was a brilliant couple of shags we had earlier; you are, to say the least, incredible, which got me to thinking... What do you want for Christmas? – J. x**

Still biting her tongue but giving into the urge to roll her eyes, Lily dipped her quill into her ink pot and wrote back.

_Nothing. I don't need anything. What are you signing your name for, anyway? Not like I'd confuse you with McGonagall; I've never shagged her. Pervert. x_

**Shut up. As far as "need" goes, that's not what I asked. Come on, tell me.**

_A chimera._

**Well, that's illegal.**

_Oh, is that right, _PRONGS_?_

**A-ha-ha-ha. So clever. What do you want for Christmas?**

_Nothing._

**I gave you nothing last year. I don't want to re-gift!**

_A kneazle._

James hated kneazles. Last time he had a kneazle, it ate all of his socks.

**I told you about my last kneazle experience, so unless you plan on buying me a lifetime supply of socks to make up for it, let's not do that. How about a regular cat instead?**

_Don't get me anything. Christmas is going to be enough of a big deal with Frank and Alice's wedding. We don't have to make another big production about it._

**Since when are presents a big production?**

_Since I started going out with you. You make everything a big production._

**Says the girl who shouted her love for me in the middle of a row. Talk about a production. **

_Well, I guess that means we're perfect for each other._

James didn't bother trying to halt the goofy grin that split his face in two as he read those words. Words in Lily's handwriting, a penmanship that came from the fingers he got to hold, got to kiss, and those words were about him – better than that, those words were about _them_. James Potter and Lily Evans.

**I already knew that. xxxxxxxxx  
So how about that lower back tattoo you promised me this summer?**

_I promised no such thing. You presumed._

**Go on, Evans, tell me that's what you want. That'll be a Christmas present for both of us.**

_No._

**Why not?**

_Because I prefer it when you're miserable, so I can't go around doing things to make you happy, now, can I?_

**Bad news, love – you already make me happy.**

Lily smiled at that, but instead of telling him that he made her happy, too, she saw her out for this Christmas present rubbish. It wasn't that she wanted to get out of buying him something; she was just so preoccupied with Alice's wedding that she hadn't given the actual holiday much thought.

_Right. So, in regards to your eternal, Lily-induced happiness... Merry Christmas._

**Curse you, devil woman.**

_Charming. x_

Forty-five minutes of inconspicuous and pointless note-passing later, Professor McGonagall dismissed them, with one last warning look that clearly said she didn't want to be given another reason to put them in detention. Trying to hide their smiles, Lily and James assured her that she wouldn't be seeing them back in her office again and – chests aching from suppressing their senseless laughter – they left the room.

As they took the long way back to Gryffindor tower, Lily's hand reached for James's and their fingers tangled together. They held on more tightly than was probably necessary, but that had become a habit neither of them complained about; it felt safe, and the pressure reassured them both – they were both there, alive, together, and it would take something substantially more forceful than a crowbar or mythical flowers to rip them away from each other.

They walked on in silence and had just begun their ascent up another staircase when they heard footsteps in the corridor below. After exchanging a raised-eyebrow, what-d'you-reckon-that-is? sort of look, both Lily and James crouched down to hide and watched, over the banister, as someone came into view below them.

"Is that –" James squinted his eyes – "Moony?"

"Looks like it," Lily affirmed, and for some reason she felt like laughing again. She was sure that Remus was sneaking away from his friends for a reason, and that reason was most likely Dorcas Meadowes. Oh, he was about to be caught red-handed, and something about the situation seemed unfairly hilarious to Lily. "Wonder what he's up to."

Knowing what she did, though, Lily was quite sure she had what Remus was up to down to a tee, and she couldn't hold the laughter in anymore.

"Shhh." James flapped his hands at her. He saw Remus look around at the noise, and he grabbed Lily's elbow, pulling her down into a sitting position on the stairs. "Lily, you're a bad spy. He's going to hear us."

"Well, why don't you have the Invisibility Cloak on you?" Lily asked, then bit her lip to keep her mirth to herself.

"Invisibility has nothing to do with people's ears," James pointed out, his eyes still on Remus, who seemed to be waiting for something. Some_one_, more like, James was sure. "Anyway, Sirius and Marlene took it."

"Ew."

James's lips twitched. "I know. If it weren't so valuable, I'd probably burn it," he said, causing Lily to release another too-loud peal of giggles. "Evans, if you don't stop giggling, I'm going to snog you."

"Potter, that threat has somehow lost its merits in the past year."

"As pleased as I am to hear that, love," James said, and he was, "if we start snogging, we're not going to figure out what Moony's up to."

Lily had to concede to that. There was no way she was going to get James moving before Remus's secret was blown out of the water, so the best she could do at this point was help cover his tracks when James started in on the inevitable inquisition.

They waited in silence, bating their breath and waiting for whatever it was that Remus was waiting for. Only about two minutes had passed when their stealth was rewarded, and that's when Lily's suspicions were confirmed; she didn't even bother trying to hold back the laughter that was threatening to crack her ribs. Oh, it was so completely _wonderful_ to laugh instead of cry…

"Who is that he's with?" James was squinting again, trying to place the figure who had joined Remus in the corridor. It was no easy feat, since as soon as she showed up, the pair had begun to walk the opposite direction. "Is that _Meadowes_?"

"I don't know," Lily said, far too innocently.

"You _do_ know," James accused, aghast at his girlfriend's apparent lack of decorum. Everything began clicking into place. "You knew it when she came to the hospital wing, too – that's why you threw your ice cup all over Padfoot! It wasn't because he was being himself, it was because you wanted him to shut up before we figured anything out!"

James drew in a sharp breath, gasping for good dramatic effect. He jabbed Lily in the shoulder. "_You know_. Now tell me everything."

"No way," she countered as she shook her head vigorously.

"Evans, you tell me right now."

"Or what?" Lily said with a wicked grin, which then turned into an exaggerated pout. If she couldn't cover Remus's tracks, she could at least distract James from noticing any more. "You gonna kiss it out of me?"

James tilted his chin up rather pompously. "I'll withhold affection."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said flatly, "you do that, James. Let's see how long you last."

"You think you're so irresistible, don't you?"

Lily nodded happily. "Mhmm," she said as she twisted her fingers around his tie and tugged him closer, until her lips brushed his when she spoke in an undertone. "I love you."

James made a sound low in his throat, a sort of half-whimper, half-groan. "Not fair."

"Don't you love me back?" Lily asked, making sure to sound as pathetic as she possibly could.

"You're trying to distract me."

"I _am_ distracting you."

That was a fact James found he couldn't rightfully argue with; it was pretty obvious how well she was distracting him. Damn her irresistibility. _"Lil-yyyy…"_ he whined. "If you tell me, I'll shag you up against a wall again."

"So much for withholding affection."

James stuck her with a pointed stare. "I think we both know I was full of it there."

"Too right you were," Lily muttered, causing James to laugh. They stood from their cramped position on the stairs and continued walking up them, and Lily filled him in as best she could without divulging too much of Remus's personal life. It was hard, she discovered; Remus was one of James's best mates, after all, and Lily found herself in an awkward position. "Look, Remus will tell you when he's ready. I can assure you they're not going off to snog or anything like that; they just talk a bit, that's all."

"If that's all it is, then what's he sneaking around for?" James wanted to know. Dorcas Meadowes might have been a Slytherin and friends with that Skeeter bat and James couldn't say he particularly _liked_ the girl, but he'd be willing to keep his mouth shut if Remus wanted him to. He was sure that Sirius and Peter would do the same, too, if it meant a lot.

"Remember what Sirius said," Lily reminded him, and she took his hand again. "Peter asked Dorcas out. It adds a factor that's sort of difficult to navigate."

"Does Remus fancy her?"

Lily mimed zipping and locking her lips, which was answer enough for James. He frowned a bit as he mulled it all over in his head, unable to come to any failsafe conclusion.

_This_, he thought at length with something of a resigned sigh, _should be interesting_.

* * *

**Sunday, 11:52 P.M.**

The invitations had arrived that morning, written on purple parchment in silver ink, all of them identical, save for the name on the envelope.

_12:00 A.M.  
Headmaster's Office  
Lemon Drops_

_Your attendance is requested._

"Lemon drops?" Peter had wondered aloud at breakfast that morning. "What the bloody hell is a lemon drop?"

"It's Muggle candy," Lily explained. "Must be the password."

"How is it that you know everything?" Sirius demanded.

Lily shook her head. "I'm a Muggle-born with a talent for obvious deduction."

Sure enough, Lily's talent for obvious deduction was demonstrated that evening, about ten-or-so minutes before midnight. She, along with the Marauders, Alice, and Marlene, made their way past the gargoyles and up the winding staircase to the headmaster's office. They were quiet, a nervous buzz resonating in the air among them; they had been speculating all day as to what Dumbledore could want with them all at so late an hour. While they'd been hazy with the specifics, they'd all agreed on one thing:

It was time for Dumbledore to recruit them.

When they entered the office, it was to find Dumbledore behind his desk, as they'd suspected. McGonagall sat next to him, and Alastor Moody hovered in the background, his dark eyes darting around the room, sizing up the people assembled there. Aside from the Gryffindors, two other chairs in the office were occupied: one was Benjy Fenwick, who greeted the newcomers with a grin, and the other was Dorcas Meadowes, who caught Remus's eye for a fleeting second before they both looked away. James noticed, and he wondered how often that sort of thing had happened before he'd known about… whatever it was that was going on between those two.

"Welcome, welcome," Dumbledore said as the Gryffindors took the empty seats around the large oak desk. "You're probably wondering why I've gathered you all here at this late hour."

"Contraband tea?" Sirius guessed.

"Don't forget the unethical crumpets," Benjy added.

Marlene looked at him. "What the hell's an _unethical crumpet_?"

"A rogue biscuit," Benjy invented, "with a dark past and questionable morals, who –"

"Fenwick!" Moody barked. "Quit your rambling."

Benjy grinned cheekily at the most well-respected Auror in the Ministry. "Sorry about it, Al."

Moody glared at him and Benjy's grin widened, showing off his very straight teeth.

"Disappointing as it is," Dumbledore interjected, a twinkle of amusement sparking in his eyes, "I'm afraid I haven't planned any questionable teatimes. No, I've called you here for a much less appealing reason.

"As you are all well enough aware, the war outside is becoming bigger every day," the old man went on, having caught his students' undivided attention. "Even at Hogwarts, wizardkind is thick with strife. We lost an eleven-year-old girl last year, right here in the castle; while the reason behind Jenny Jenkins's death remains unknown, her blood status did not go unnoticed by me, Alastor, or Charlus."

At the mention of the late Charlus Potter, Dumbledore nodded a little to both Sirius and James before continuing. "You are all more well-accustomed to the tension in the school than I am. While I can watch and listen and learn, it is something entirely else to _experience_ the sort of trials you have already been through between your lessons.

"You have lost friends and family to a war in which you have yet to fight: Jenny Jenkins, Charlus and Dorea Potter, Isaac and Claire McKinnon. You have been estranged from your loved ones, kin treats kin as if they are strangers, friends become enemies. There is betrayal, abandonment, lack of trust. If not in death, you have already lost many of your loved ones in spirit."

Dumbledore paused to let his words sink in, and their meaning was clear: It was the ideals of this war that had torn the Wizarding world asunder. It was differing opinions that had led Sirius to the Potters' doorstep; it was intolerance that Frank Longbottom and the Prewett brothers were risking their lives to rectify; and it was a baseless superiority complex that had caused Severus Snape to lash out at the one person who would have otherwise stood by him through everything.

They all knew this – you couldn't walk down one corridor into the next and _not_ know it – but somehow it hit them harder, sitting cramped around Albus Dumbledore's desk, listening to his words and weighing their significance to their personal lives as well as the overall good of the world outside.

Midnight crept into dawn as Dumbledore continued. The moon began to fade into the light of the sky as they learned about missions, other members of the fight, the power Voldemort was gaining across Britain, and the measures that were being taken to stop him. The Ministry was corrupt, crime rates increased, and the death toll crept higher with every passing hour. They would have to fight, torture, kill, die – all for the sake of something better.

Perhaps they would survive to tell the tale – the story of how they climbed mountains and fought dragons, how they risked their lives and saved others. Perhaps they would live to laugh at the normalcy of the lives they had created once the war was through, because the war _would_ end. That did not mean, however, that they should entertain too many lofty illusions: The end of the war would come at a price, and the cost was already a hefty one.

Perhaps they would die, at the hand of an enemy or someone they once thought a friend, and they would become another name on a long list of casualties – another hero, another martyr, another soul that hundreds, thousands, millions would come to thank for their sacrifice. They would give life, even if that meant giving up their own.

"So I ask you," Dumbledore said, just as the sky outside was doused in pinks and shot with golds, "if you are able, if you are willing, to lay yourselves down for the sake of your world and the people in it."

There was a short beat of silence. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Moody all waited patiently as their students – unsung heroes – exchanged looks. Each one of them could tell the others were scared shitless, but there was something more there, something more palpable than fear: It was readiness, unadulterated and unquestionable, and they all came to the silent agreement that they would fight to keep one another alive, no matter how high the cost of self-sacrifice.

They nodded their assent to Dumbledore's question, and they signed their names away to a greater good.

"Well, then…" A small smile played at the corners of Dumbledore's mouth, and that old twinkle glinted in his blue eyes as he regarded each of his chosen students so proudly. "Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

_A/N: I am insanely proud of this chapter. When you cry as you're writing something, well, you know it really counts. _

_Regarding everything I wrote about the Lily of Death… I did a bit of research on the lily's symbolism, which is how I came up with pretty much the entire concept. All the information is right up there in the chapter, but essentially I made it all up, based on what I found online. The entire story I gave you was probably unnecessary but, hey, fun with symbolism, right? I couldn't help myself._

_I know I keep breaking my promises, but I cut the "drunken Marauder shenanigans" from this chapter, too (obviously). As I organized all the content so it flowed nicely, drunkenness just didn't end up fitting in anywhere. HOWEVER, next chapter includes Frank and Alice's wedding, which means love and drinking and questionable behavior. So it's fine. No complaining – you'll get the shenanigans, and look how quickly I updated! Much better than that two-month lapse, yeah?_

_More on next chapter: Marlene and Lily commentate Quidditch, Sirius gets into a fight, another issue of _The Skeeter Scoop_ circulates, Remus and Dorcas have a conversation, Frank and Alice get married, and some Christmas holidaymaking happens. _


End file.
